


Twist and Pull

by MissMonie



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bad Jokes, Blood Poisoning, Blood and Gore, Boys Kissing, Chris Tries, Dad Chris, Dad Leon, Damsels in Distress, Fist Fights, Fluff, I Mix In Stuff, Kissing, Leon's POV, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Minor Character Death, Monsters, Mountains, Not Canon Compliant, Organ Theft, Original Character(s), Post-Resident Evil: Vendetta, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Chris, Racism, Smut, Strictly Anyways, Suicidal Thoughts, Virginia, Virus, Wendigo, Zombie Animals, Zombie Children, Zombies, elk are scary as hell, no beta we die like men, traumatic injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonie/pseuds/MissMonie
Summary: After the fight with Arias, Leon's ribs were bruised, putting him on medical leave. He decided to sequester himself to a cabin in an out of the way national forest to recover. And drink. Alcohol and nightmares are bad bedfellows, and he makes a call to Claire that has Chris showing up on little sister's rescue mission. Though it's clear Chris has his own motives for chasing down Leon.And in the midst of their reconciliation, something odd is going on in what should be peaceful woods. An injured young woman finds the two of them asking for help, a new monster on her trail.Leon only wanted some peace while Chris wanted to save a friend, now the two of them have found themselves smack in the middle of a new mission with a new virus looking to tear through the Appalachian mountains and maybe bring Umbrella back to its former glory.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Comments: 84
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this.  
> (I hope)

“Leave the bottle.” Leon held his hand up to the waitress. She arched a brow, hesitating to top him off. “I promise I won’t hop the rail.” He flashed a lopsided grin while she rolled her eyes, placing the bottle of whiskey in the center of the table. The glass cast rectangular specks of afternoon light across the worn wood. He traced diamond patterns with his fingertip.

The hushed rabble of conversation drifted behind him when the waitress opened the door into the cafe. Leon lifted his glass to his lips, turning to look out over the patio rail. 

A wide mountain range circled him on either side, and thick vines of kudzu sprawled along the rail. They dangled off the edge towards the tips of pine trees before creeping their way down the branches. A breeze ghosted past him, heavy with the smell of honeysuckle, and the hard slap of humid air against his face. At least he wore a black shirt today.

The Rhododendron sat overlooking a deep gully that ran through the center of a national forest. The Appalachian mountains framed it on all sides, keeping much of the valley the cafe sat in well shaded. Its location left it secluded and quiet, something Leon looked for specifically. With two weeks gone since the incident with Glen Arias, he found himself licking his wounds and nursing whiskeys daily. Chris would be pissed to see his “pep talk” fall so flat, but it took more than a hard fight and a good win to buck near fifteen years worth of demons. Many of them sank their claws into his back long before he knew they were there.

For those two weeks, he haunted the cafe’s patio, thankful the humidity kept what few guests they saw inside, huddled around the massive windows in the dinning room. A little humidity was a fair trade compared to sweltering temperatures in combat gear, or a licker breathing down his neck. His shoulders hitched at the memory, and he picked up the glass to walk to the waist high railing, free palm coming to rest on it. The wood felt smoother than the table, the paint brighter on the top rail. A few trees with wide limbs blocked a clear view to the valley floor, but he could make out the shapes of enormous boulders just past the branches. He wondered if the fall would kill him or just break something.

The thought crept out of nowhere, at least what he tried to rationalize it with, and made his hand tense around the glass. His last conversation with Claire staggered through the haze of his mind like a drunk prom date in heels. It groped as it went, digging out more memories, the faces of people he lost. Fourteen years was a long time in a fight when most of their victories equaled something like a child’s pail of water dumped on a raging inferno. The fight against Arias had been no hollow victory, many people infected with the A Virus had been cured. Rebecca had made leaps in developing new vaccines, and they took down another mad man. But what about the ones they missed? Those infected had attacked the ones with some immunity. And the ones in Arias’s tower. Had they all been infected by the T Virus? His free hand clenched. He and Chris had no time to consider that as they gunned them down. 

It’s kill or be killed. Hesitate a second on the trigger, and it’s done. He said that to Claire. He said a lot of things to Claire the night before. The fog of inebriation made it difficult to remember what, but he knew he told her things he hadn’t meant to. Things that made her cry. They shared a nightmare, both of them knew what Hell looked like.  
The last of the whiskey burned on its way down, his eyes closed as he hung his head. The faces of J.D. and Buddy formed in the darkness behind his lids. He needed to keep his word, he had meant all of it. Once. Now, his resolve felt cracked, and it was a matter of time before something came along none of them could take down. He always wanted to go out on his own terms, even as a rookie cop, but he didn’t know if that meant flipping off death until he couldn’t, or accepting the inevitable early by taking the easy way out.

A hand clapped on his shoulder, and he twisted around to stare at Chris Redfield. A low groan built in the back of his throat. Couldn’t he even self deprecate in peace anymore without a fucking Redfield showing up? They were like fucking bloodhounds for self loathing. Though, he knew good and well, he likely blew a dog whistle named Claire for this particular hound to scent his trail. He must have scared her badly.

The older man flashed him a smirk. “My stealth’s not shit this time, is it, Kennedy?” His eyes locked on Leon’s face, the smirk slipping at the edges. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His hand dropped from Leon’s shoulder to the rail as he leaned against it. “You’re hard to find when you run off, you know. I really need to get your number sometime.” The smell of aftershave and gunpowder mingled with the honeysuckle.

Chris looked well, better rested than the last time they crossed paths at least. Leon smoothed the discomfort from his expression with a scowl, easing against the rail. He gave Chris a look over he hoped appeared more scathing than interested. The faded denim jeans and green tee stretched taut across Chris’s upper chest looked out of place, too relaxed. Maybe he was just too used to the combat fatigues. The familiar sight of a hunting knife strapped to his thigh caught Leon’s muddled attention. He never even heard the cafe doors open. If it had been anyone but Chris...

“What do you want, Redfield?” Leon shifted on his heel to give them some more distance. He wasn’t in the mood for this.

Chris cocked his head, giving the same scrutiny though his eyes lingered to the point it made Leon’s skin burn. After a moment, the other man shrugged, broad arms settling in a loose cross over his stomach.

“I,” Chris hesitated, and it made Leon tense. “I wanted to continue our conversation.” He gestured lamely. “Without, you know, yelling.”

Leon’s brows dipped. He watched Chris, looked him up and down again, before stepping back to his table. A few steps faltered. Maybe he had too much.

“Not interested. Besides, I’m on vacation.” The metal chair scraped across the wooden planks. 

“I know. Resting your bruised ribs.” Chris smiled as he stepped forward. He nodded to the chair in front of Leon. “May I?”

“Knock your fucking self out, Soldier Boy.” He shrugged and grabbed the bottle to pour himself another drink. 

The chair creaked as Chris settled into it, folding his hands over the worn tabletop. Leon took a sip from his glass, eyes anywhere but on Chris. Nothing good happened when a Redfield showed up. For all his affection for Claire, girl flocked to trouble just like Leon. Just like her big brother.

“It’s pretty here.” Chris said as he tilted his head. “Figured I’d find you in a bar honestly.”

Fucker. He didn’t do bars anymore. Hadn’t in years. When you had the training he did, it didn’t pay to go all Con Air on some stupid fucker who got you jumpy.

“It’s quiet. A good place to avoid the stench of Umbrella and what its half decayed cat drags in.” Leon rolled his shoulders until he felt something pop.

Chris chuckled, and Leon found the sound not entirely unpleasant. It at least put his inner demons on the back burner. He wasn’t half as drunk as he had been two weeks before. A god send honestly.

The silence stretched between them as Leon nursed his whiskey, and Chris pretended to look at the scenery. The little jaw ticks and quick shift toward Leon when Christ blinked gave him away. After finishing half the glass, he sat it down and sighed.

“What’s the new mission, Chris?” Leon ran his fingers through his bangs.

Chris blinked. “No mission. It’s been quiet.”

“So why are you here?” It sounded like an accusation as it left Leon’s lips. It was a distraction to his real question, what did Claire tell him. “I only see people I know while on vacation when they’ve fucked up, or they want to drag me to a war zone.” This way, he didn’t ask if Chris admitted it. Plausible deniability. 

Chris laughed again though Leon noticed it held less mirth than earlier. The look that followed seemed less jovial, too. Like Chris was analyzing him. Fucking Redfields.

“I wanted to pick up what Arias made us postpone.” Chris nodded like he needed to believe it himself. The way he spoke sounded so much calmer than before. It made Leon grind his teeth.

“Bullshit. We measured our dicks and saved the world, and you’re not that petty you’d travel from fucking DC to the ass crack of Virginia just to badger me about my drinking.” Leon snapped. 

A muscle ticked under Chris’s left eye, and he huffed. “You’re right, Leon.” He shifted in the chair to face him fully. “I’m here because Claire asked me to come.”

Ice ran through his veins, his heart frozen in a second. It hurt to find his voice, like fighting sandpaper.  
“You always do what little sister says?” He asked roughly.

“When she threatens to break my arm, yeah.” Chris tried for a touch of humor, but when it fell flat, he dipped his head. “She’s worried about you, Leon.”

“I’m fine.” He shook his head, running his hand through his bangs again. 

“Claire doesn’t think so.” Chris leaned forward. “I don’t think so either.”

“I said I’m fine!” Leon snapped, voice echoing against the trees. He looked away from Chris, feeling a lump form in the pit of his stomach. 

“Leon.” Chris’s voice stayed level, somehow, despite the tension in his jaws. His dark eyes remained on Leon’s face. “I know you’ve seen hell. We all have. Raccoon City was fucking...” He pressed his palms to his forehead. “I can only imagine what the fuck you and Claire dealt with. Arklay was small scale to the entire fucking city. But you can’t hide and drink the nightmares away. It’s not healthy.”

“Sure gotta fucking high horse there, Pot.” He tipped his chin up. “You poster boy for mental health now?”

Chris pinched his lips thin as his hands slid away from his face. The pair stared at each other, Chris searching Leon’s eyes while Leon willed Chris to disappear. The other man closed his eyes and sighed at length. 

“I’ve been where you are, Leon.” Chris opened his eyes and gestured to the bottle between them. 

Leon bristled. He did not want to have the “I understand your pain” conversation. “Like. Fuck.”

“I lost my team, too. Countless people.” Concern softened Chris’s posture, eased his shoulders a fraction. “I thought I lost my sister. I thought I lost Jill.”

The way Chris looked at him now made Leon’s insides crawl. He looked at him with wide eyes. Eyes that tried to look through him, see the bare and vulnerable self at his core. He felt himself ease a little, seek them out with his own, and when he did he felt the bitterness latch onto him. Felt it sink its teeth to the bone.

“How about the president? Seventy thousand people? Do we really have to rehash that conversation, Chris?” Leon said in a whisper as he slung his arm over the back of the chair in mock casualness, like they were discussing sports instead of lives. “You ever shoot a guy in the gut? After he infected himself to save his country from a tyrannical dictator? Not sure if he’d survive, but knowing good and well if he did, he’d be paralyzed?” His tongue darted over his lips, and he finally broke eye contact. “Or maybe you’ve been infected by the goddamn things we try to stop?”

Silence fell between them again while Leon finished off his drink. He sat the glass down to reach for the bottle again only to have Chris grab his wrist. The grip tightened, the touch of the other man’s skin blistering hot. Leon lifted his eyes, a small frown on his lips.

“You think that changes it?” Chris’s brows dipped though he looked more confused than angry. “Jesus Christ, Leon. What leads us to the bottom of a bottle is always different, but the outcome isn’t.” Irritation flared in Chris’s gaze, but it looked unfocused, blurred. Leon recognized it as internal. He saw that look in his mirror far, far too many times. “We all hit the bottle at some point, and for some reason. But that doesn’t change the fact that coping with our problems like that doesn’t stop them.”

Anxiety fizzled under Leon’s skin, starting at the point of contact and exploding outward until it made every part of him feel like it was bubbling. His free hand gripped the edge of the table tight enough his knuckles blanched.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He bit out, eyes sharp as he stared at Chris.

Chris grit his teeth, leaning in until they were close enough Leon could feel the warmth of his breath. It smelled like cinnamon.

“Out of anyone, I think I do. I cost good men their lives, lost myself, and sank to the bottom of a bottle just like you. I gave up, just like you’re doing now.” The words slipped out barbed and venomous, daring Leon to strike back.

“Fuck you, Redfield.” He snarled, voice low. He tried to jerk free of Chris’s grip, but it tightened as the older man yanked him forward. “I said fu-”

“I’ve buried friends, too, you asshole!” Chris snapped, teeth bared. “You’re not the only who’s had to look at their graves and feel guilty.” Leon moved to reply, but Chris bit out. “Shut up! I don’t want to hear your lame ass excuses! You’re acting like a fucking child.” Leon let his eyes drift to the table as Chris shook his head and looked away. “They’d be ashamed to see what you’ve let yourself become.”

The fizzling sensation popped and before he could stop himself, Leon’s free hand swung. Chris let go of his wrist and moved to duck, but the blow glanced off the side of his cheek. Their chairs scraped against the planks, Chris’s going backwards with a few bounces, before Leon moved to take a second strike. He felt dizzy, anger boiling just under his skin mixing with the alcohol.

“Shut the fuck up, Redfield!” He darted into Chris’s space, kicking his foot out to break Chris’s stance, but the inebriation took a firmer hold, making him wobbly. 

Chris blocked the first hit, catching Leon’s elbow as he twisted around, hooking his arms under Leon’s. Leon let out a low growl before he felt Chris’s weight pushing forward. They hit the floor hard, air leaving his lungs in a rush. He felt Chris’s hand on the back of his head, pushing him down as he shifted to lay on top of him. He heard the sound of the waitress screaming.

“Calm down, Leon!” Chris grunted. The weight shifted, and his ribs throbbed. “Miss, it’s fine.”

Leon sucked air between his teeth and squirmed under Chris, but the other had more heft, and his fucking knee jammed into a goddamn kidney!

“Get-get off me, Redfield.” Leon wheezed. The planks scraped against his cheek.

“Not until you use your stupid fucking head, Kennedy.” He did shift his weight a bit. Just enough so it was agonizing instead of excruciating. “You fucking swung at me.”

“Yeah, well. You deserve a good clock cleaning every now and then.” He hissed. Chris chuckled, and it put pressure on his back again. “Get off me.”

“You gonna try to hit me again?” Chris asked, his voice softened.

“You gonna piss me off again?” Leon replied.

“Then you’re staying on the ground, Kennedy.” Chris ruffled the back of Leon’s hair.

“You’re such a fucking bastard.”

Chris was quiet and Leon wondered if the waitress called the cops yet. He could feel the people in the cafe staring, wondering what the hell was going on. 

“Claire told me.”

The words cut through Leon worse than any knife or bullet. He twitched under Chris, desperate to see his expression. All he could make out was a slight glimpse of his face from his peripheral.

“What’d she tell you?” His voice moved to match the volume.

Chris sighed, and the weight left as Leon turned onto his side. He looked to the other man, watching his eyes drop to the floor. The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, expectant of the worst.

“You wanted to eat a bullet.” Chris shrugged and looked to Leon. “She asked me to find you. To make sure you didn’t.”

Leon felt his heart slam against his ribs, and at the same time like his whole chest imploded. The hazy, late night call had ended in them both sobbing and maybe between those pathetic moments, he let it slip. He never meant to tell Claire that. Never meant to let her see how broken he was, that the glue finally wore down. His hand shifted to push him up as he sat facing Chris but avoiding his eyes. The tightness in his chest didn’t ease, and he pulled a leg up to rest his elbow, pressing the palm to his left eye. It spread through him, constricting his throat and making his stomach clench in a sick lurch. 

He had tried before. The night before Chris and Rebecca found him to help against Arias. He had sat on the hotel bed with his gun in his hand. He knew the taste of the metal, the feel of the barrel jammed in his mouth. But when he tried to pull the trigger, he saw Buddy. 

“I...”

“Is it true?” Chris asked. The anger in his voice washed out, leaving a soft sympathy as he looked at Leon.

Leon’s shoulders quaked, and he felt the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He pressed the edge of his knuckle to his eye until it hurt.

“Yeah.” He managed. “I just don’t know how much more I can take, Chris. This shit,” he gestured to himself, to Chris, “it fucking spreads! How do you keep going, when there’s so many people dead behind you?” He pressed his other hand to his face, shivering. “How-”

Both of Chris’s hands landed on his shoulders, and he looked through his fingers to see Chris close. The anger vanished, sorrow replaced it.

“It’s hard, but if we just give up, everyone who fought beside us, with us, they died for nothing. You’ll never save a life, if you don’t put out your hand to try, Leon.”

The tears came. Hard. This wasn’t what he wanted anyone to see. No one needed to know how broken he was, how cracked and worn out he’d become. But Chris only pulled him in, letting him rest against his shoulder.

“Fuck, I don’t want to do this anymore.” He whispered.

Chris ran his fingers through the back of Leon’s hair, shushing softly. It sounded tense, and in any other situation, Leon would have laughed at how uncomfortable Chris sounded. But in another situation, Leon wouldn’t have needed the comfort.

“I...I need help, Chris.” It slipped out with far too much ease, but it took tension with it.

“Then let me help. It’s why I’m here.” Chris eased them apart, looking into Leon’s eyes. “Where are you staying?”  
Leon took a deep breath and scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand. They continued to shift away from each other, but Chris still held his arms. 

“Cabin about ten minutes from here. Let me pay my tab, and we’ll head out.”

Chris shook his head. “I paid it when I came in.” He lifted his hand when Leon tensed in protest. “Bare minimum of saving my sister, though I should make you pay me back for trying to hit me.” He managed a small smile as they both stood up.

Leon snorted. “I grazed you. You must be getting old.”

“Hey, I can still whip your ass, Kennedy.” Chris started toward the door, and Leon felt the eyes watching him as they slipped through the cafe. “Let me grab my bag.”

Leon watched as Chris opened the trunk of a shitty little Kia rental and pulled out a duffle and a backpack. He turned to look towards the woods as Chris situated the two. He still felt vulnerable, worried for the conversation to come. Why did Claire have to send Big Brother running after him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome!
> 
> So I started this back in May after the release of the remake of the third game, and my first RE fic Pillow Talk and Phad Thai. I finished it during NaNo of this year (the dreaded 2020), and have been editing it repeatedly since finishing it. I pretty much told myself "stop poking at it because you're never going to post it".
> 
> I don't have a beta reader for it, so everything that's in here is all me. Which basically means a shit ton of stuff I've hoarded of my personal knowledge of the franchise. And I admit now, I am not an expert and I am a lazy, lazy researcher at times. I haven't played or watched gameplays of every RE game and there will be leaps in logic in this fic. I tried to do it in the vein of RE's world because they do crazy shit. Just. Vendetta. Let's just look at Vendetta. Not even touch the mess of Damnation or Degeneration. Leon and the fucking Ducati, guys.
> 
> And the next point. There WILL be original characters in this. They will play major roles in this. If you're not down for that, I will not think less of you for choosing other not OC heavy fics. This whole thing started with me going "Angsty Drunk Leon in a bar. He and Chris fall in love. Tackle some heavy shit" and you know what? I've had a real hard year full of sad shit. So I ended up tweaking my initial idea into the 61k some of you will read. This one is less suicide attempt based, and more run and gun the monsters.
> 
> The OC's I'll talk about more when they actually show up. I'll also be updating tags as I go because that tags contain spoilers isn't for the universe of RE itself, it's for this fic.
> 
> Another bit, the park I set this in is based on a real park I used to go to as a kid. Obviously not everything, but the cafe and some other bits are. My family are coal miners and I grew up in the southwestern side of Virginia, so that's kinda just a personal touch because I didn't know how to write any other kind of settings.
> 
> So I've rambled enough. This is my first long fic that's not original work. We'll talk more in the next chapters.
> 
> Updates on Wednesdays


	2. Chapter Two

The walk to the rental cabin felt like it stretched on as both men kept in pace on the dirt trail leading away from the cafe in silence. It was a surprise they managed to leave without the cops being called. While the waitress seemed upset by their brawling, the man who looked to be the manager barely batted an eye as they left. What the hell went down on the regular to make him that blasé about two men fighting? Rednecks.

As they walked, the sun inched behind the trees with dapples of light shimmering on the path. Cicadas chirped in the brush, and the smell of honeysuckle grew stronger as they passed by strips of the vine hanging from a dogwood. A songbird twittered somewhere above them in its branches. The path branched off and dipped down a short hill, the forest thickening around them until the trail was wide enough for a small car. Leon chewed the inside of his lip as he apologized for losing his temper in hopes to nullify the guilt. It felt like the bottle he shoved his emotions in might be full, threatening to spill. Chris smiled at him, accepting.

“No worries. So, how’d you find this place?” Chris redirected, his thumbs hooked in his pockets, duffle bag smacking against his hip.

Leon shrugged, more grateful than he’d admit for the segue. “I rescued an ambassador’s son a few months ago. He sends the kid to some boarding school in a coal town about an hour from here. I looked it up one night. Looked quiet. Thought it might be more off the map than Colorado.”

The path forked ahead of them again with a sign that pointed towards a lake on the right, and the cabin to the left. Leon guided them around the curve, the trees opening to a clearing. The cabin sat on a raised stone foundation, its porch stretching out enough to leave space to stow firewood. A series of square columns ran the length of the porch and held up the extended roof as well as what looked to be a second floor balcony. At either end of the porch, stood two benches and a small table. It was nice to sit on later in the evening to watch the sunset. Leon’s jeep sat parked ten feet from the stairs pointed toward the road.

“Haven’t been in one of these in a long time.” Chris muttered, stopping at the bottom of the stairs while Leon trudged up the steps, his boots heavy on the wood.

“Yeah?” He turned to see Chris’s eyes locked on the door, his hand floating up to touch a spot at the back of his head. “You alright, Redfield?” Chris settled a hand on the rail, knuckles blanching, before he headed up. Leon snorted as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “And here I thought I was the only one freaking out.”

The key slipped into the lock and turned with a loud click. As the door pushed open, the smell of oak wafted out to them. He stepped inside and flipped the switch by the entryway.

“Remember the whole mansion incident thing?” Chris began, voice steady as he stepped in behind Leon. “There was a cabin on the grounds. A woman named Lisa Trevor lived there, though I can’t really call her a woman given what Umbrella did to her and her family.”

Leon paused and cocked his head. The name sounded familiar, something he found while in Birkin’s lab. Where had he-oh. Right. Her.

“Shit.” Leon muttered as it flooded back with a snap. “Birkin used her to make the G-Virus. I found papers in his lab about it.” He eased Chris from the door as he pushed it closed, twisting the deadbolt until he heard it clunk into place.

“Makes sense.” Chris let out a breath. “She was one of their first successful attempts with the original progenitor virus. Her dad built the mansion for Spencer.”

“Worked out great for him, I’m sure.” Leon blew air between his teeth as he flicked another switch by the door. The bulbs flickered before casting a yellow tint across the cramped entryway and down the short hallway.

To their left was the living room with a stone fireplace built into the wall, its smooth, stone lip jutting out enough to hold a bundle of wood. A black sectional and a low, mahogany coffee table sat in front of it. A bookshelf had been built in a hollow above the mantle, though most of the books held religious titles or something about the local area. They all looked dated to even before Leon or Chris himself were born. An actual bookcase full of board games and video tapes sat to the left corner near a lumpy looking armchair. Many of the boxes were caked in dust.

Leon shifted into the living room, towards the window, before he noticed Chris’s attention linger on the fireplace. The metal grate was shut since he had yet to use it, the nights surprisingly warm given the mountains.

“Santa’s not coming through that thing, Redfield.” Leon caught the thick, beige curtains and tugged them closed.

Chris twitched. “I’ve seen some shit come out of chimneys.” He shook his head. “When I was in Mexico.”

Leon snorted, “We could make our own horror movie.”

“Yeah.” Chris replied as he looked away. “We could. Even an A-list one at that.”

Leon stood at the window for a few more seconds. Neither of them wanted to have this conversation, but for all the shared discomfort and bad jokes he felt rolling off Chris, he knew Redfield wouldn’t let it go. They could take on legions of monsters, but this was what gave them both pause. Well, career military men were rarely known for their sense of emotions.

He drew in a breath, and hated the pitiful way Chris turned to him, how expectant he looked as his bags sunk to the floor. Twenty minutes ago, he wanted to hit Chris, and now. He wasn’t really sure what he wanted, or even how to start it. He just knew a part of him needed to say it, sober, to release it. The cork on the bottle was ready to pop from the pressure, and if he didn’t let it go, it might hit someone less prepared to handle the rush of all his bottled self.

“You...want some coffee?” Leon gestured down the short hall towards the kitchen. A small bar served as the dinning room while the kitchen looked fit for one cook at a time. “I have some stuff from Spain that’s pretty good.”

“Sounds good.” The tightness in Chris’s voice relaxed a margin. “That’ll help clear your head, too.” The pair started for the kitchen, but Chris hung back when he realized its size. He pulled out one of the bar stools and eased into it. “I had to call in a few favors to find you this time.” He said gently, like the words might shatter midair.

Leon glanced at him, a small twitch of his lips, as he watched a well built man like Redfield wiggle on top of a backless, wooden stool like he was a kid sent to the naughty corner. The smile faded as he turned away to pull the percolator off the stove burner. The thing looked well used, its metal dented and scuffed. He pulled off the top.

“Sorry you wasted them.” He muttered and turned the faucet, filling the pot.

“Didn’t waste ‘em.” Chris replied just as soft. “Contrary to what you believe, and how things went two weeks ago, and today, I like you, Agent Kennedy.”

A snort escaped as he added the grinds, the smell of a rich roast filling the small space the minute he opened the lid. He heard Chris shift. Better to do it while they were still feeling guilty about throwing their dicks around.

“Uh huh.” He sat the percolator on the burner and fiddled with the knob before he heard the soft hiss of gas, and the flame lit. “What did Claire tell you? Exactly.”

Chris stayed quiet, and Leon turned to rest both hands on the cream colored bar. He kept his expression blank, internally worried. He hadn’t expected her to tell anyone, but he also knew this situation wasn’t some high school dramedy played for laughs. A part of him even felt glad it was Chris.

“She said she wanted me to check on you.” Chris said after what felt like an eternity. “She was pissed when I told her about what happened the last time we spoke.” He lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “And that’s when she told me what you told her last night. About wanting to end it all.”

Leon closed his eyes and sucked in a breath through his nose. Damn the Redfields and their fucking honor code. Chris probably felt obligated or something. He probably viewed this as some debt repayment.

“So she asked you to come since she’s in India again?” He turned away to open the cabinet over the sink. It held an odd assortment of mugs in various sizes and colors. He settled for the two that looked the most similar in a glossy white.

“Yeah.” Chris shifted in the chair again. The wood creaked. “She said she heard something she didn’t like in your voice and made me hunt you down.”

Leon’s lip curled at the verbiage, but wiped off his face as he placed a mug in front of Chris.

“Bad choice of words, Soldier Boy.” Leon leaned on the bar again. “She tell you specifics?”

Chris looked uncomfortable as he moved in the chair again. The wood continued to whine in protest. Damn thing might break. It hadn’t looked well built to start with.

“Just you said you wanted it to end.”

A humorless laugh drifted from Leon as he rested an elbow on the bar, propping his chin up. He had been so wasted it was a wonder he dialed her number at all. It had been to spill his guts, he remembered in the end, maybe to go without regrets. Or to just tell the stories of the people he couldn’t save. Chris had been right. He was taking the coward’s way out and spitting in the faces of all the people who fought beside him. Dead and alive. But no matter how many times he tried to soldier on, get back up, the weight increased with every loss. It pushed him farther and farther to the ground until he felt like he couldn’t get back up. Until he didn’t _want_ to get back up.

“You were right.” He sighed, feeling like his bones wanted to melt inside his skin. He looked to see Chris raise his brows. “About saying people would be ashamed of me wallowing in my own misery.”

Chris tipped his head forward, glancing away. When he looked back, his smile was careful, measured.

“I said that out of anger, Leon.” The way his cheeks flushed made Leon’s heart beat out of sync a moment. “It wasn’t right to say that because the pain you feel is real. And you’ve struggled with it for so long. Alone.” He moved to hold his hand. The warmth of Chris’s hand on his, running callous fingers over scarred knuckles, startled him. Chris squeezed his hand as he leaned forward. “I’ve been where you are, but I had help. I had people around me. People who never gave up looking for me. Let me help you.” Determination filled his voice. “I want to help you. I know what it’s like, and it’s hell. Just, please.”

Leon sighed, his head already starting to shake. He didn’t deserve Chris’s compassion or his worry. He didn’t deserve anyone’s really. He had always been alone. “I’m fi-”

“No, you’re not, Leon.” The grip on his hand tightened. “You’re not, and it’s okay you’re not. But please, let me help you. We’ve lost so many people. I couldn’t do anything to help them, but I can you. Please, just let me help you?”

“Heh, you were pissed at me thirty minutes ago. Where’d that go?” He mumbled.

Chris ran his thumb over Leon’s knuckles. “I lost my temper. Kinda let my own feelings about my self surface. It...wasn’t meant to be personal.”

“Sure as hell felt like it.” Leon replied with a lazy shift to his shoulders.

Chris pulled his hand back after a moment, and Leon went to get the sugar and cream.

“I told you. I’ve felt like you. Not the same, but I’ve been in a dark place.” Chris sighed and leaned back, grabbing the bar when he went too far. “Fuck!”

Leon glanced back and laughed, nodding toward the living room. “Come on before you crack your dumb head. I’m out of herbs.” Leon started for the sofa.

He didn’t have to tell Chris twice as he practically leapt off the stool. “You ever wonder how we find that shit on missions like that?” Chris asked on the way.

“I’m more curious about why we think it’s a good idea to jam mystery plants into gushing wounds if I’m being honest.” Leon admitted. "But, blood loss does make you crazy."

  
~*~

Chris took his coffee black while Leon liked his with enough cream it verged on milk flavored coffee. Chris looked grateful to be off the stool, though he sat as far from the fireplace as possible. He nestled against the arm of the sectional, looking into his mug. Leon tossed his boots by the door before padding to his side of the room. The sofa sagged under him, the pleather soft and worn.

“You know.” He began. “It’s funny. If just one thing changed that day, you and I probably wouldn’t be here.” A part of Leon wondered how different it could have been if he hadn’t been so fixated on Raccoon City with its disturbing disappearances. Would he have made detective by now? Would he even still be an officer?

Chris’s eyes settled on a spot behind Leon while he sipped his coffee. “You’re probably not wrong. I know we don’t cross paths much, but I owe you a lot, Leon.”

“You...you don’t owe me anything.” Leon closed his eyes. “I was at the right place at the right time.”

“I owe you saving my sister. If you hadn’t come into Raccoon that night, she might not have made it out.” Chris shifted forward, touching Leon’s shin. “That’s a lot in my book.”

He lifted his head. “It’s the same for me, too. If I hadn’t run into Claire, I could have been dead.”

“It was meant to be.” Chris shrugged as he pulled his hand away.

“Maybe.” Leon felt unsure. It seemed like a lot of the time it was sheer dumb luck any of them made it through the hell they saw. “You know, I was supposed to have reported in that morning.”

“Yeah?” The sofa squeaked as Chris moved.

Leon wet his lips. “I had a hangover and didn’t wake up until like five thirty.” His hand covered his eyes. He never told anyone about that and intended to keep it that way. “Was still a little hungover when I stopped for gas and met Claire.” He pulled his hand away to look at Chris who shrugged.

“Feel guilty about being late to help the other officers?” The words lacked no bite, just curiosity.

“Sometimes. But I realize I can’t hold onto that. If I had been on time, I could have been killed with them. And then who would have helped Claire and Sherry?”

Chris nodded and took their mugs, standing to wander into the kitchen. “How’d you end up with the R.C.P.D. anyways?” He called.

Leon laughed softly, turning to watch him. He may have still been a little drunk as his eyes wandered Chris’s back as he walked away. The way he moved made Leon appreciate well cut jeans with how they hugged the backs of Chris’s thighs and his ass. Sure Chris made the military fatigues look decent, but this more casual Chris was…interesting. He leaned his elbows on the back of the sofa to watch closer.

“I hounded my superiors at my old precinct when I heard it had an opening. I’d been keeping an ear for those murders and animal maulings in the Arklay Mountains.”

The mugs clinked in the sink as Chris turned the tap. “They’d been going on for months. No one knew what the hell was up. We finally got a lead and sent our Bravo team first. We thought it was some cultists.” He rinsed the mugs and stacked them by the sink to dry. “Didn’t know until it was too late Wesker walked us into a fucking trap to gather data.”

“I read some of the report in the station that night. Your main chief was on Umbrella’s payroll.” He shook his head.

“Yeah, well. Irons was a bastard, too.” Chris shrugged as he headed back over, wiping his hands on his shirt. “So what had you drunk? Celebrated too hard?”

Leon snorted. “You ever forget to tell your girlfriend you’re going out that weekend? Yeah, well, try forgetting to tell her you’re moving states.”

Chris chuckled, “She gave you hell?”

“I’d rather face three Tyrants with just a combat knife again than that.” Leon laughed bitterly. “She went ballistic on me before I left which made me head out late. So I ended up stopping at a motel a couple miles outside the limits. I made the mistake of calling her and she didn’t want my apology.”

“I think most people would be pissed in that situation.” Chris admitted as he sat back down. “I know I would have, and I’ve done it myself.”

“I probably would have been mad, too, but she was my first serious relationship. I hit the bottle that night. Missed my own welcome party. Figured ‘ah hell fucked my chances’ and tried to call the station. No answer, so I headed out hungover and pissed at myself. And that’s how it all started for me.”

Chris was quiet for a while before he let out a chuckle. Leon glanced at him, the amusement barely touched his eyes. His hand lifted to rest against his cheek as he leaned on the arm rest.

“I expected more fireworks for your ride into hell, Kennedy.”

Leon scoffed, looking towards the kitchen as he pulled one leg up. He expected himself to still be mad, to feel anything of what he felt before. Shame, he felt that, but he also felt that after his one night stands with Ada.

He felt...better? Talking to Chris, actually talking, let him put some worries aside. He knew they’d be back, they always fucking came back, but at least he had a reprieve.

“Hey.” Leon lifted his head. “Where do you plan to stay tonight?”

Chris blinked then shrugged as he looked around the living room.

“Well, I assumed you’d be a gracious host.” He smirked and gestured to the sofa.

Leon snorted and pushed off it to stand. He lifted his arms above his head and stretched, noticing Chris’s eyes tracking him. Well, now he felt a little less guilty watching his ass.

“Got a starin’ problem, Soldier Boy?” He crossed his arms and thought he made out the tiniest hint of pink dusting Chris’s cheeks.

“Just an assessment.”

Another little snort left Leon as he waved his hand towards the staircase to the right of the kitchen. He flipped a light switch by the rail and illuminated the second floor landing.

“There’s two bedrooms. You can crash in the guest one.” He turned to see Chris head towards his bags. “You have something to sleep in?”

Chris picked up the backpack which made Leon wonder about what he packed in the duffle. Ammo, guns, first aid. The usual, his mind supplied.

“I sleep in my shorts.” He slung the bag over his shoulder. “Hey, wasn’t there a lake near here? Wanna go for a walk?”

The image of Chris in a pair of well fitting boxer briefs flooded his mind. Fuck, was this some stupid phase of drunken, lonely horniness? Leon felt heat come to his face and somehow, God only knew, he managed to keep his expression blank. Until he realized Chris was staring at him.

“Huh?” It came out thick and dumb.

Chris smiled at him. “Wanna go for a walk around that lake? Just feels like it might be good to get some fresh air after airing all...this out.” He gestured between them.

Leon swallowed and managed to nod, taking the first step upstairs. “Yeah, alright. Let me show you upstairs, you can toss your bag in the room.” Chris fell in step behind him.

The second floor had all the hunting trophies the downstairs lacked tangled with wildlife portraits. A mounted duck with a painting of a mother duck and ducklings above it sat on the end table that separated the bedroom doors. Similar themes followed with a deer head and even a mounted otter. Leon and Chris had seen some weird shit in their years fighting bio terrorism, but there was something unnerving about painting your kills to hang above their corpse.

Leon pushed open the door, gesturing Chris inside. The guest room was done in dark green bedding with cream accents in the curtains, carpet, and pillows. The coverlet was tucked under the pillows to one side while the other was folded back at a neat edge in invitation. A small heater sat in the corner for cool nights, and an oak dresser stood by the door. While the bed was big enough for two, it only had one night stand with a single lamp. The shade had a cutout of a moose and pine trees that cast shadows on the walls when Leon turned the switch.

“Bathroom’s through that door.” Leon pointed on the other side of the dresser. “It has its own shower.”

Chris tossed his backpack onto the bed. “I’m gonna leave my other bag downstairs.”

“Ammo stash?” Leon asked as he leaned against the door frame. Chris nodded. “I figured as much. Let me grab Mathilda.”

“You still have that?” Chris asked incredulous as they stepped into the hall.

“Of course. She’s got me out of some tough spots.” Leon smiled. He wasn’t going to admit Mathilda was the one he intended to blow his brains out with.

The floorboards of the master bedroom creaked as they stepped inside. It looked the same as the guest room though it had been done in blue and had two nightstands, its lamps depicting bears on their shades. Leon ran a hand through his hair as he knelt over his bag, opening the first pocket. The familiar shape of his V70 felt good in his hand despite the previous baggage as he strapped the holster to his thigh. He didn’t expect anything to come shambling, God don’t let anything shamble, out of the woods. But fortune seemed to have a hard on for the paranoid and the prepared.

The sun started to ease behind the mountains as they stopped in front of the lake. It left fading bits of light streaking across the calm surface in thinning, yellow bars. Now, Chris stood a few paces from Leon, staring out over the water. He looked...good with the woods as a backdrop. The wind rustled the trees and brought the smell of his aftershave and gunpowder back to Leon. He loved the smell, ever since he learned to shoot, somehow the carnage never managed to ruin it. He scuffed the toe of his boot in the sand, drawing a thin line, before he glanced at Chris again. Chris bent down to pick up a few pebbles near the edge of the water. He tossed them in his palm as he motioned Leon over with a tilt of his chin.

“You ever skip rocks?” He smiled and nudged their arms.

Leon watched the way the smile made the corners of Chris’s eyes crinkle. He nodded as Chris held out his hand to take a pebble. The tips of his fingers brushed the callouses along Chris’s palm as he caught the smooth stone. A small jolt rolled through his fingertips as he struggled with the desire to stroke the pad of his thumb along each rough patch of skin, to map out his hand. He eased his fingers away and held the stone, feeling it warm in his grip. Chris switched the stones to his other hand to pick one out. He tossed it in the air lightly before catching it and slinging it across the water. It bounced five times before disappearing into the water, soundless.

“Nice.” Leon managed before he threw his own. It skipped about twice before dropping with a plunk.

Chris chuckled, and they traded off like that for a good ten minutes, egging each other on. Eventually, Leon sank to the ground and Chris followed. They sat with a foot between them, the wind picking up. Clouds rolled across the sky, and the air felt a little cooler than earlier in the afternoon. A summer rain would likely be there after nightfall.

“What are you going to do when you go back?” Chris asked, his eyes trained forward, arms resting behind him.

Leon considered playing dumb, asking him to clarify, but he stayed quiet instead. Probably the same old thing he always did. More alcohol, a trip to the shrink, and time with a punching bag.

“Haven’t thought that far ahead.” He admitted. “Probably throw myself back into work.” He said with a roll of his shoulders. “It always did the trick before.” The words tasted bitter on the way out, and he didn’t miss the way Chris’s shoulders lifted at them.

“Before?” He repeated.

Leon took a breath. “I’ve thought about it on and off since Simmons, Chris.” He pulled his legs up to rest his arms on his knees. “A lot of people died that day. More than what we’re used to.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Leon. And it’s not your burden.”

He knew that, but there was a difference in knowing and believing. And there was the matter of making his nightmares believe it.

“I know. But, tell me, Chris. Be honest.” He turned to look at the other man, his lips pursed. “When someone dies on your watch, don’t you shoulder that pain?”

Their eyes met, and Chris’s brows drew down, his lips grimaced. His gaze flickered from Leon’s, full of uncertainty, before it flicked back. The pain remained, though he looked like he accepted it.

“I think that’s one of the things that makes us different than the people we go after. A life still means something to us.” His hand caught Leon’s, pulling it close and squeezing the fingers. “And your life means a lot to me, Leon.”

A lump formed in the back of Leon’s throat. “We barely see each other, Chris. It’s not like we get together for holidays and shit.” He managed. “I hadn’t seen you in years when you show up out of the blue after Arias. It’s not like we’re actually friends.”

The grip on his hand loosened a moment before it tightened, and Chris yanked Leon sideways. He managed a weak grunt before he felt Chris pull him into a hug, crushing him against his chest.

“Let me change that, okay? Let me stay here with you for the rest of your recovery, and when we head back to DC, I’ll make a promise. Whenever our time off overlaps, we’ll do something. Together.” He squeezed Leon to the point he felt his ribs ache. “I promise.”

A quiet huff left Chris, and Leon felt his warm breath near his ear. The way he held him, the way Chris said the words made something feel...right inside Leon. It wasn’t a cure all, no, he knew he definitely needed to see his therapist when he made it back home, but this felt good. It felt like something he could look forward to. If Chris meant it.

“You-you mean that?” He hated how his voice broke, how he sounded like a goddamn child instead of a grown man.

“I do. I’m sorry I was such a fucking ass before, Leon.” He gave him another rib crushing hug. “I care about you. I do.”

“Okay, okay! You’re gonna crack a rib, Redfield!” Leon gently beat his fist against Chris’s back. “Let up!”

Chris eased away from him with a smile. “I really mean it.”

“Uhg, now you’ve gotten all mushy on me.” Leon pushed away from him gently. “Wanna head back? I have a pack of hot dogs in the fridge, and there’s a grill on the back deck.”

“Sounds five star, Kennedy.” Chris laughed as he pushed himself up to stand.

Leon snorted and climbed to his feet. Something white swayed in the breeze, catching his attention from the side. He watched as Chris started up the trail, taking a step closer. It looked like fabric, maybe something formerly white now a dingy gray covered in dirt. He pulled it off the throns it had been caught in, running his thumb against it. It felt soft despite the wear. Leon peered over the brush, thicker brambles barred the path ahead, to see nothing. He tucked the scrap into his back pocket and gave the woods a final look before he turned after Chris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome! We update on Wednesdays!
> 
> Geeze, posting a multi chapter fic is way more anxiety inducing than a one shot. I'm serious. Post a one shot and boom no more thinking about it. I'm also going to admit now, other than a rough draft of a novel I started back in 2008, this is the first multi chaptere story I've ever finished. I try to be a long haul writer, but I do a lot of shorts maybe three chapters or one shots. Not because I can't write long things, just the idea plays out how it plays out.
> 
> More talking in this one, but I promise there's action in the next chapter! Plus, we get a little lovin'. That's actually when our plot starts really rolling and the OC's show up toward the end. I just wanted to give a little more time between Chris and Leon to try to get that "getting to know each other" feeling. We really need more stuff where they interact.
> 
> The cabin they're staying in is a loose description for one I personally stayed in a couple years ago when a friend graduated med school. It was really nice.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! The tags changed! And this is a longer chapter!

The smell of charcoal and roasting weenies reminded Leon of his childhood. Of summer barbecues and long, late night drives out to drive-in theaters in the middle of nowhere. Before high school ended, before the academy. Before Raccoon.

Smoke wafted past him in thinning trails as Chris opened the backdoor, carrying a cutting board and an onion. A steel pot was tucked under his other arm with the can of chili Leon bought from the small store outside the park. If Chris intended to stay, they would need to stop by an actual grocery store. He wasn't even sure what Chris liked to eat.

"You like onions on your hot dogs?" Chris asked as he sat his armload down on the patio table.

"Yeah. With ketchup and mustard." He called as he turned the weenies, admiring the grill lines.

"Not too weird. I knew a guy when I was back in the air force who ate pineapples on his." Chris chuckled as he peeled the onion, settling it on the cutting board.

Leon wrinkled his nose. "That's only decent on pizza."

Chris let out a snort. "Oh no, you're one of those? Pineapple does not belong on pizza, Leon."

"Pssh. Figures you'd have a stick up your ass on pizza toppings." The corners of his mouth twitched.

"Pizza is sacred, man. All I'm saying." Chris shrugged and resumed finely cutting the onion.

"Yeah, yeah. I won't make you eat it." Leon replied and glanced over his shoulder. "If you're serious about staying, I've got three to four more weeks. We should probably head into town tomorrow to grab some proper groceries."

The smell of onions hit him as Chris sat the cup on the lip at the side of the grill. He placed the pot on the free side of the weenies and pulled the tab on the chili can.

"At least you bought tater tots." He nudged Leon's arm as he dumped the chili into the pot.

"Don't tell me you have hang ups on tater tots?" Leon groaned.

"Fuck no. I love them. They remind me of when Claire and I were kids." Chris laughed. "They're a staple of horrible starches."

"Yeah, yeah they are." Leon agreed.

A comfortable silence drifted between them before Chris excused himself back inside for a spoon. Leon turned the weenies one more time, straightening the paper towel on the plate by the onions. He pulled the first hot dog off then the next. Smoke billowed out behind him again, tinted orange by the fading sunlight cutting through the leaves. The sound of the wind in the trees echoed behind him. The window by the grill, the one over the sink, lacked a screen which offered a crisp reflection of the forest in the glass. Leon glanced at it every so often, maybe from paranoia maybe from enjoying the serenity of the branches swaying in the breeze.

The door clicked shut as Chris drifted back to his side of the grill to stir the chili. Leon pulled the last hot dog off and looked at the window again. A shape, bent low, darted through the bushes.

"Did you see that?" He glanced at Chris, shifting on his heel to look out into the woods.

"Probably an animal." Chris muttered, though his voice held no reassurance while his hand tensed around the spoon handle.

"Maybe." Leon agreed as he carried the plate and cup of onions to the table.

Nothing else moved aside from the branches swaying from the wind. He shook his head, pulling out his chair. For all they knew, it could have been a hunter after a rabbit or some other animal, but there was the scrap of fabric he found. Though, there was no telling what or who it came from, or how long it had been stuck in the thorns.

His eyes lingered on the treeline even as Chris sat the pot of chili on the cutting board between them. The smell made his mouth water, and he finally broke his gaze away to make himself dinner.

"You notice it got quiet." Chris settled beside Leon, pulling out a bun. Leon spooned a line of chili across his weenie.

"Yeah, I did."

"Usually means a predator is near by." He replied as he took the spoon.

They ate with their attention on the forest as night crept closer towards them. It brought a coolness to the air Leon would have welcomed hours prior. Now, it soaked into his skin and threatened to numb his bones.

Ten minutes into their meal, the noise of the forest returned, and he watched Chris relax only marginally. Crickets and frogs joined the birds, and as much as Leon wanted to relax, he couldn't. He had spent too many years at his job. Become too intimate with the sensation something was off.

"You done?" Chris asked.

"Yeah." Leon nodded as he finished the last of his bun.

Chris tied off the plastic wrap for the buns, and pushed away from the table. Leon followed as they collected their dishes and leftovers. The door groaned as Chris opened it, both of them looking back one more time before stepping inside.

~*~

Chris volunteered to wash dishes while Leon wrote himself a shopping list. It felt almost natural, and he found himself glancing at Chris's back from time to time. He appreciated Chris's company even more given the odd sensation the woods left him with. It had to be an animal or a person, nothing else. He needed a distraction from the idea something was out there, or else he'd drive himself crazy.

His eyes lifted to Chris again, trailing over the shapes of his shoulders, the sweep of his middle back, and the swell of his ass against the well hugging jeans. Yes, much better distraction to paranoia, though not necessarily the best aide for wounded pride. Leon wet his lips and shoved his feelings of inadequacy away as he imagined getting a firm grip of that ass. Of running his hands down Chris's back, of being held. He missed being held.

The inadequacy and little voice at the back of his head returned with force. Maybe he was deluding himself to think it wouldn't be weird to hit on Chris considering he rushed out on Little Sister's rescue mission. Even he had to admit it sounded weird in his head. Chris came out thinking he'd have to wrestle a gun out of Leon's hand, but the idea Chris came out to a remote cabin for him at all did things to Leon. Stupidly squishy heart things he never liked to think about. But, Leon could admit he'd always found Chris attractive, even when they disagreed. _Especially_ when they disagreed. Besides, nothing ventured nothing gained. And Leon had always been a risk taker.

He put the pen aside and stood up, taking a deep breath as he moved towards Chris. The smell of dish soap floated around him, making him feel almost lightheaded with its pungent, orange blossom aroma. Or maybe it was the steady thrum of his heart against his ribs, the way his blood felt like fire in his veins. Maybe the fear of rejection.

Leon wedged his hip against the corner between the sink and one of the other cabinets, feeling the handle dig into the back of his calf. Chris shifted his gaze from the cup in his hand to Leon. He smiled and put the cup in the other half of the sink to rinse. Leon watched him work, trying to formulate a plan in his head. He seduced his slew of people over the years, been seduced by at least one himself, but the idea of flirting with Chris Redfield felt like taking on every B.O.W. he ever fought at once, and maybe even one or two of Chris's.

It really wasn't any lack of attraction, or some bizarre spur of the moment hero worship, no. Chris was definitely what Leon went for. Strong, muscular, loyal. Attentive to detail and intelligent. They may have had a rocky couple of encounters like Arias and the Ada clones, but they understood each other. Or so Chris tried to say, and Leon hoped. At the least, both of them were an ungodly amount of stubborn.

"You alright, Leon?" Chris asked as he pulled the plug to let the water drain. Leon snapped to attention and nodded.

"Yeah. I'm okay." He watched the water gurgle down the sink as Chris took the nozzle to rinse the soap away. "Just thinking."

"About what?" Chris let the nozzle go and looked at Leon again, leaning his arm on the edge between the counter lip and sink basin. He dried his hands.

Leon's eyes moved to Chris's lips, and he took a step closer, pressing himself against Chris's torso. They took a step back until Chris hit the stove, the tight confines of the kitchen working to an advantage. Leon pressed his mouth to Chris's, cupping his face. Chris's hands gripped Leon's elbows, and he pushed Leon back gently. The sting of rejection tore through him, and he started to twist away when Chris tightened his hold.

"I'm sorry...I. Chris." Leon began, turning his head to the side.

"I have questions, Leon." Chris said softly. His voice held no anger, no malice. Leon lifted his head. His brows flat, mouth drawn in a neutral line. "Do you want this because I came out here to stop you, and will you regret me in the morning?"

What? The words played on repeat in Leon's head. Regret Chris? He doubted anyone in the world would regret going to bed with Chris fucking Redfield. He blinked, and he knew he was staring stupidly because Chris started to loosen his hold. Leon gripped Chris's bicep tight. He wet his lips again.

"I wouldn't." He said. "I wouldn't regret you, and this isn't because you came out here to play hero for me. I've been attracted to you for a long time, but I was worried I was the one to be regretted." He shifted, starting to ease away. Chris had seen him at his weakest, his most pitiable. There was a chance that was all he'd ever see when he looked at Leon. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

Chris lifted his left hand to touch the corner of Leon's jaw, thumb rubbing over the bone. Their eyes met, and Chris leaned in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Leon's mouth. He pulled back a few centimeters, his breath warm against Leon's lips.

"I'd never regret you. And I'm not playing hero." He said, pressing their foreheads together. "I came out here because I've been thinking a lot about you, Leon. About how we ended things, and that's not how I wanted it to go."

Leon barely had time to think when Chris gripped him around the waist. He was up and settled against the bar, Chris's mouth against his with strong hands gripping his ass. Pulses of electricity sparked through him wherever Chris touched, making him arc his back again and again. He panted against Chris, and felt his tongue slip inside his mouth. Leon struggled against the information bombarding him all at once, breaking his mouth from Chris's. He thought about him? God, it felt like some badly written romantic comedy he watched with Sherry once. And then Chris cupped him through his jeans, and his brain short circuited.

"Chris!" He gasped in pleasure. His hands went to Chris's back, fingers knotting in the fabric of his shirt. "Chris."

Chris kissed along Leon's jaw, down his neck. His hands moved from Leon's ass, across his hips, to his thighs. They shifted to grip Leon's knees, pushing his legs apart until he could fit himself there. Another burst of energy rushed through Leon, and he wrapped his legs around Chris's waist, trying to draw him in closer, tighter. He gasped when Chris nipped his neck.

"Fuck." He whimpered and gripped the back of Chris's head, rocking his hips forward.

Chris let out a low groan while Leon ground against him. The friction drove Leon crazy as his dick stirred, straining against his zipper. He turned his head again to seek out Chris's lips. The next kiss met with a clack of teeth, and Chris's hands were back to Leon's ass. God, he loved feeling Chris squeeze his ass. Then he was up again, his arms wrapping around Chris's neck.

They moved from the tiny kitchen up the stairs. The kissing remained heavy, and Leon was sure he could feel Chris's stiffness through his jeans. It felt amazing, and he didn't want it to stop. This was what he needed! Well, he still needed that therapy visit, but this would put to bed some of his demons, and a good orgasm would help him sleep.

"Chris." He panted again.

Chris paused outside the guest bedroom and held Leon one handed as he opened the door. The coolness of the room did little to combat the flush to Leon's skin. If anything, it made him burn all the hotter. The little voice at the back of his head made itself known to remind him just a few hours before they had been arguing. That Leon took a swing at Chris. That voice was shoved aside because Leon would have gladly rolled over and admitted defeat if their fight had been settled with this from the start.

Chris sat Leon on the bed with far more tenderness than many other bed partners showed him. He stood over Leon, looking down at him with a near predatory stare in contrast to the gentleness. It made Leon's already hot skin burn hotter. He leaned back on the bed, meeting Chris's gaze, defiant smirk on his lips.

"How far do you want to go?" Chris asked, hooking his fingers in his jeans. "I promised I'd stay, so how far? For tonight."

Leon chuckled. He ran his hand through his hair, licking the backs of his teeth. It was a fair question. He had been injured, and maybe it needed considered a little more, but Leon preferred not to let it play a part. So long as he didn't do anything wild, or put too much pressure on his side, it would be fine.

"As far as you're willing to go." He dropped his hands to the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head. He saw Chris's eyes look him over, knew they lingered on the yellow and red spattering of bruises over most of his side. "Just, be gentle tonight."

Chris shifted, and Leon felt the mood suffocating. He gripped his shirt in his hands tight enough it hurt.

"Can you have sex like that?" Chris asked, drawing a circle in the air with his finger over the bruising.

"Yeah. Just nothing too hardcore." He started to feel examined, like a bug under glass. "If you don't want to, it's okay."

"I want to. I've wanted to fuck you since I first met you. Just time constraints and pissing contests, and saving the world." Chris said, waving his hands. "I'm just trying to remember if I packed condoms now."

Leon looked at him as his face burned from the admittance. Well, damn. He let out a startled laugh and fell back into the comforter. Chris gave him an embarrassed look as he dropped to his backpack to rifle around.

"Oh my God, Redfield." He covered his eyes. "Only you would make an ‘I wanna fuck you stupid' sound so clinical."

"Well, it's true. I like a guy who runs his mouth and throws his weight around. Plus, you're pretty good with a gun." Chris said as he stood back up, dropping both a bottle of lube, and a foil condom square beside Leon. Leon stopped laughing to look at the items before he burst into another fit. "Hey, I'm prepared. One of us has to be, right?" Chris peeled off his shirt, dropping it with Leon's.

Leon peeked between his fingers to see Chris bare chested. The laughter died down as he sat up with a smile, leaning in to kiss the skin. It felt warm to his touch, and he could taste the saltiness of his sweat. His hands lifted to hook his fingers into the belt loops of Chris's jeans so he could draw him closer. As he did, he kissed over Chris's stomach, his chest. All the while his tongue darted out to map the scars left from Chris's previous missions. His hands moved from the loops to the front of the jeans. Leon flicked his gaze, lust heavy, up at Chris as he worked the belt buckle loose. Chris watched him closely. The thrill of the attention spurred Leon on more than any shot of whiskey or weight of a gun ever did.

The sound of the zipper brought Leon back to task as he started to slide Chris's pants down his hips. A subtle track of hair trailed down from Chris's naval and under the waistband of his black boxer briefs. A spot of moisture stood out against the less than subtle bulge in the fabric. Leon smirked at Chris, resting his cheek against the flat of his left hip. His fingertip drew feather light circles against Chris's straining head, Leon taking wicked glee in the twitches it elicited.

"You got stamina for more than just chasing down bio terrorists, Captain Redfield?" He teased, eyes half lidded.

Chris returned his smirk with a cocky grin of his own, carding his fingers through Leon's hair.

"Why don't you see for your self, Agent Kennedy?"

Leon chuckled and moved to press his lips to the imprisoned shape of Chris's erection. He could already taste the salt from his pre cum, but it only made him want it more. His tongue pressed firmly against the swell, feeling it pulse. His lips sealed over what he could of it and sucked lazily. When Leon looked up, he saw Chris close his eyes and tip his head back. Well.

Leon's hands spread across Chris's thighs as he sucked at the clothed cock. After a moment, he pulled away and began to peel the damp fabric down. Chris twitched against his attention, but otherwise stayed still. His dick popped free, thick and needy. Leon hummed in appreciation, taking it in his hand a moment to test the weight. His own cock stirred in want.

"Leon." Chris mumbled.

Leon leaned in to press a kiss to the head, laving his tongue against Chris's slit. That made him shiver, and Leon did it again and again.

"Never thought some head would break the disciplined Captain Chris Redfield." His fingers skimmed the length of Chris's cock, stroking lazily over a vein.

Chris looked down at Leon before he moved. Disappointment filled Leon's expression at losing Chris's cock, but it was replaced with amusement when Chris pushed him back on the bed.

"You need to be naked now." He muttered as he made much quicker work removing Leon's pants than Leon had of his.

Leon laughed, even wiggling to help undress himself. His own cock bobbed in the air, hungry for Chris's touch. It didn't wait long as Chris pushed him up a little farther before moving to straddle Leon's thighs. His hand slipped between them to stroke Leon before it moved over the plane of his stomach.

"Chris." Leon whispered before it turned to a sharp gasp as Chris pinched one of his nipples. "Fuck!"

Chris smirked and leaned down to catch Leon's lips in another kiss. All the while, his hands roved Leon's torso. The touching remained careful on his injured side, but there wasn't an inch of skin Chris's callous hands didn't seek out. It felt good, the rough motions of his hands. Every catch on his skin made him want more. With every kiss, he whined, his own arms wrapped around Chris's neck, one of his legs pressed to Chris's hip. Their cocks rubbed together briefly before straining against their stomachs. He could feel pre cum leaking down his shaft.

"Chris." He broke their kiss. "Chris, fuck me?"

Chris smiled down at him, his lips red and kiss swollen. He shook his head, and Leon started to protest, to beg.

"I want you to ride me."

Leon paused to take stock of that. When the shock wore off, he leaned up for another kiss, this one slow. It lingered as he mapped out Chris's mouth, pulling away when he felt confident in his intimate knowledge.

"Okay. On your back, Redfield." He pressed a hand to Chris's chest, feeling his heartbeat as he pressed him to the side then onto his back.

Chris smirked and obeyed, resting his hands behind his head. A look of expectation crossed his features as he watched Leon pick up the bottle of lube. Leon checked the label before he swung his leg over Chris's waist, settling there. Chris's erection brushed his ass and sent heated tingles running through his spine.

"So did you expect this to happen?" He asked as he opened the lid and squirted a generous amount onto his fingers. "Or do you just carry lube and condoms all the time?"

Chris laughed. "The lube is easier to explain, I admit that. You never know when it'll come in handy for not sex related things."

"Mhm, bet a squirt of this will have any licker slipping right off the wall." Leon arched a brow.

"Sure. Or a Tyrant sliding on its genetically deformed ass." Chris waved. "The condoms on the other hand are entirely unexplained."

"Right." Leon chuckled and lifted up from Chris enough to stroke his ass.

The lube felt cool against his skin but quickly heated as he stroked himself. It made him shift and shudder over Chris who drank it all in. Leon panted as he pressed his middle finger in. Chris shifted under him, the tip of his dick touching Leon again. It felt hot, and all he could think about was having it inside himself in a matter of minutes. His finger curled inside him, and he arched his back, his dick bobbing. Rough, warm hands settled on his thighs, making him gasp. He looked to see Chris stroking his legs, his attention rapt on Leon's hand. The rough pass of his callouses felt just as good as the touch of his erection. Enough it made him press his ring finger inside, curling them together. A groan rumbled deep in his throat as he lazily fucked himself on his hand. All the while, Chris watched.

They kept at that pace for a few long moments, Leon's pants echoing in the room. Tension started to build inside, and Leon withdrew his hand. He took the foil square to open, and Chris sat up a little more while Leon slid the rubber down his length. Chris hissed softly from the touch and pulled Leon in for another quick, though deep, kiss.

"Fuck, you're hot like this." He muttered as Leon eased back.

Leon scoffed, taking Chris in one hand and spreading himself with the other. He carefully lowered himself, stroking the head of Chris's cock against his entrance. It felt vastly different to his own hand, and he couldn't remember the last time he had been with a man. Far too long, his body reminded as he eased Chris inside himself, feeling that achingly blissful mix of pained pleasure from the stretch.

"Ah..." He bit his lip and gingerly sank down.

Chris was big, and the spread left a comfortable ache in Leon's insides as he adjusted around it. His walls spasmed a few times, but Chris didn't seem to mind if the moans were any indication. Leon settled his hands on Chris's stomach, his knees pressed against the sides of Chris's hips. They made eye contact, and Leon's heart did stupid things like flutter against his ribs.

The ache eased to something pleasant, and he pushed up, moaning like it was his first time. Chris's hands moved from his legs to his hips, the pressure of his fingers keeping him grounded. Leon looked at Chris as he moved up and down in smooth, slow motions.

After a moment of feeling Chris out, Leon began to wiggle his hips on every press down. It pushed Chris's head against his prostate, and that was heaven. Leon began to move faster, driving himself down on Chris until the room filled with the sound of their panting breath and slick skin clapping together. He broke eye contact after a while to throw his head back, basking in the pleasure. The grip on his hips tightened as he felt Chris buck under him. He looked back down, mouth agape. Chris wet his lips, a look of concentration on his face. He knew from how Chris held him, when his ribs healed, Chris was going to fuck him so hard, he would walk crooked for a month.

The pace picked up again, and Leon was bouncing high and hard on Chris. It felt good to have him so deep as every thrust down hit home, and Leon cried in ecstasy. The press against his prostate had him seeing stars and pleading nonsense as he chased his high. Chris replied with his own pants and mumbles, but the rush of Leon's pulse in his ears was too much for him to hear any of it clearly. He whined and dropped his hips to rut against Chris, seeking that last moment of connective friction before release. He came hard with a shout, cum spurting into the air to spatter on Chris's stomach. Chris grabbed Leon's hips to slam him down while Leon clenched spastically around him, still whimpering from the pure pain-pleasure as he rode the orgasm to the end. He could feel the heat of Chris's own release, and let his mouth hang slack in a silent cry of pure ecstasy.

Sweat beaded down his chest as all motion stopped, and Leon felt Chris grip his arms to ease him onto their sides, still connected at the hips. Everything in him oozed out of his pores as the orgasm finished its final run through his system, letting him relax limp and boneless against Chris. He barely felt the kisses pepper his mouth when he realized he returned them. Chased them was more accurate.

"You're gorgeous." Chris whispered. "Gorgeous."

Leon opened his mouth to reply when a scream cut through the quiet outside their cabin. He pushed away from Chris, easing off of him. Chris sat up, the afterglow breaking like a soap bubble.

"Was that an animal?" Leon muttered as he got to his feet and moved toward the window.

He pushed aside the curtains to see silvery strips of moonlight stretching across the lawn like claws through the trees. Chris pressed close to him, pulling his pants up. Leon turned away to redress, handing over Chris's shirt. He looked back out the window as he zipped his jeans.

"Foxes make weird sounds, and mountain lions sound insane, but no." Chris rested his hand on the window frame. "Heard it too much. Definitely human."

As much as he wanted to admit Chris was wrong, Leon knew it, too. They both heard people screaming too much for it not to be imprinted deep in their memories. The scream started again, this time closer. It sounded feminine and like it was heading for them. They both shoved away from the window, starting down the stairs. Leon headed for the backdoor, peeking out, while Chris went for his duffle.

"You bring any guns besides Mathilda?" Chris called over his shoulder as he unzipped the bag.

Leon looked out the squat window in the backdoor, scanning the deck and yard. The wind picked up, whistling through the cracks in the window's sealant as a new noise rose over the scream. It started low, like a whine, before it picked up into a full roar. Chris darted a look to Leon as the glass trembled in the frame.

"I have a cache in the trunk of my jeep. Under the carpet." Leon replied as he grabbed the holster off the bar, strapping it to his thigh. He withdrew the gun, taking off the safety. "You?"

"A handgun and two shotguns." Chris was at his side again, dropping the bag as he pulled out a short barreled shotgun. He handed over Leon's boots.

"Well aren't you paranoid." Leon hummed and stepped into them, lacing fast.

"Fortune favors the prepared, Agent Kennedy. How many times have we gone into a situation without something with decent stopping power? Or the times we had to hunt down some busted ass hunk of junk to get a working gun?"

"Fair." Leon spared Chris a glance, wondering where the hell that animosity came from, before resting his hand on the doorknob. "Hunk of junk?"

"Don't ask." Chris said bitterly as he gripped Leon's hand to turn the knob.

Silence reigned around them as the roar faded into the distance, their boots loud on the deck. A heavy smell of decaying leaves hung in the air, thickening around them as it crept into their lungs. Chris stepped past Leon, clicking his flashlight on to shine towards the trees. The thick clumps of leaves blotted out the light past the first row. Leon turned to scan their left side.

The motion of something white darted past the trees. Another roar rose up in the dark, and somewhere deeper in the forest, a tree crashed to the ground. Chris bounced the light in the direction as the white thing burst through the bushes. A woman jerked her arms up to cover her face, brambles catching in the tatters of a white sundress.

"Please!" She lowered a hand to rip at the hem trapped in the thorns. "Help!"

Chris moved the light away from her face. "Move!" He yelled.

Another tree snapped a few feet behind her as she managed to rip herself free. Leon vaulted over the deck rail in a smooth motion as the woman slipped and hit the ground in front of them. She twisted around to look into the woods as hands fit with filthy claws caught on the trees near her. Her face turned back to Leon full of panic. The thing broke through the trees, balking from Chris's light. It towered over the woman, skin gray in the halo of the flashlight. Scraps of dark cloth hung around its shoulders and down its skinny arms. Torn denim hung off a narrowed waist. Its face was hidden by the shadows and one of its hands as it bent to grab for the woman.

"Stay low and run to me!" Leon yelled as he snapped off a shot, hitting the thing in the center of its chest.

It recoiled, letting out a shrill whine, swiping the air as the woman managed back to her feet, one of its hands grazing against her hip. Her body tilted, and she went sprawling to the grass again. The light wavered as Chris dropped down behind Leon.

"Get her, I've got it!" He charged past Leon, pumping his gun as the thing reeled back in the trees.

Rotten meat overpowered the stink of dead leaves as the creature righted itself with an angry hiss. Leon caught the woman under the arms while she struggled to stand. She whimpered, favoring her left side. Chris darted in front of them and managed one shot then a second. The thing screamed in a rage at them, grabbing at the trees.

"Move!" Chris thundered over the sound of snapping branches.

Leon swept the woman into his arms and rolled to the side as a branch lodged into the ground near them. The woman, tiny against him, clung to his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Warmth flooded down the side of his hip, and a quick brush of his fingers revealed blood trickling down her calf.

"Hold me tight, okay?" He said as he snagged Mathilda from the ground.

The woman tightened her hold as he added to Chris's shots. It hissed again, swiping at them before letting out a pained whine, slinking back into the darkness. Trees creaked in its retreat, footsteps heavy against the forest floor. The two of them backed up towards the cabin, facing the woods in case it charged.

"Was that a fucking Tyrant?" Chris breathed as he searched through the trees. "I've never seen one thin like that."

The woman quaked against Leon with a raspy whimper. Her nails caught in the fabric of his shirt while warm tears pressed against his neck.

"Wendigo." She breathed.

The pair exchanged a look before taking off at a brisk clip towards the deck. The forest, thankfully, remained quiet as they tromped across the planks. Chris threw himself at the door, ushering Leon inside as he checked their back. Leon felt the woman's arms tighten at his neck while her one leg started to go lax.

"She's hurt." He said aloud as he carried her to the bar. She let out a soft whimper as he untangled her limbs from him, getting his first look at her in the light. Tiny came to mind, as he hazarded she stood just shy over five feet. Her face was pale, and her short, brown hair was plastered to her head with mud and leaves. "Hey." He said softly as he touched her shoulder.

She shied away with a whine, pressing her scuffed hands to her face. The dress she wore may have been pretty once, but now it hung off her thin frame in near shreds. Blood and dirt stained the hem, and as his eyes drifted lower, he saw both of her legs were filthy, her feet bare and black with dirt, while the left leg oozed blood down to her ankle. Chris slammed the door behind them and slid into the kitchen. The drawer snapped open, and the water started.

"We're gonna have to move fast." He said as he shouldered past Leon. "Clean and patch." He dropped his hands to his waist and began to unbuckle his belt. "This'll slow the bleeding." The belt came free with a quick snap, and he looked at the woman while he wrapped it around her leg just a bit below the knee. "This is gonna pinch." He slid the end through the buckle and pulled taut, wincing when she gasped. "Sorry."

Leon's eyes widened momentarily as Chris lifted her leg to reveal the deep gash in the back of her calf. Much of the muscle hung loose from the bone in a clump of gory pulp. It was a surprise she managed to move at all with her leg destroyed. She probably wouldn't walk again even if they did get her to a hospital. In truth, they were staring at an amputation.

The shock must have registered as a vocalization because when he looked at her, dark green eyes bore into him. The whites were rimmed with red, and for a brief moment, images of Sherry flashed in front of him. Her lips trembled, but her gaze remained steady on Leon. Her thin brows dipped as her hands lifted to her chest, clasping to the point her dirty knuckles blanched. A wheeze left her as Chris pressed the wet towel to her wound, and tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving tracks in the filth.

"Hey, hey." Leon moved closer, biting back a curse as she jerked, and Chris hissed. "Shh. We're good guys. It's okay. My friend's gonna clean your leg and wrap it, and we're gonna get you the hell out of here, okay?" A tiny smile floated across his lips at her nod. "Good. So talk, okay? It'll keep your mind off your leg. What's your name?"

Her eyes strayed from Leon's toward Chris as he worked. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed. It had to hurt like hell. Leon doubted he would be able to sit as still. He sure as fuck wouldn't have been as quiet about it.

"Katrina." Her voice came out in a soft rasp, husky. "Katrina Sparrow."

Leon widened his smile as he stepped around Chris to open the fridge. All the while, he strained his hearing for that thing. What the hell kind of B.O.W. was that anyways? Tyrants usually didn't look that skinny. At least, no finished model that hadn't been labeled "stillborn".

"Katrina, huh?" He fished out a bottle of red Gatorade from the back. "Well, I'm Leon Kennedy, and he's my friend Chris Redfield." He kicked the door shut. They needed to move, and he needed to contact Hunnigan, prep a team. "Here, drink this. You've gotta be thirsty."

Katrina stretched out her left hand to take the bottle. A slim, silver scar ran the length of her wrist below the jut of her thumb muscle. It looked old. Chris tossed the towel aside as he started to wrap her leg with a clean one.

"Thank you." She whispered, clutching the bottle to her chest. "We should go. He's going to be back."

"He?" Chris and Leon echoed.

Katrina struggled with the cap, leaving smears of blood and dirt on the damp plastic. A second passed before she wordlessly handed it back to Leon. He offered a sympathetic nod before he cracked the lid.

"Yeah." She took a small sip then another longer one, her face lighting up like it was the first drink she'd had in ages. "It's a he. He's...he's going to be back. We need to leave."

"Just as soon as I secure this on your leg, okay?" Chris looked up with a smile as he tied the towel in a knot, splotches of red seeping through the thick, white fabric. He glanced at Leon then, eyes serious. "Get my duffle."

"Right." Leon nodded as he fetched the bag. He glanced outside to see it was still calm. "I'm gonna make a fast call."

Chris nodded as Leon slipped into the living room, pulling out his phone. Emotions raced through him, his own demons finally settled in their beds. Dealing with bio weapons and working off the last bits of good sex always made everything clear again. It was when he was at rest everything came apart. He tapped Hunnigan's ID and lifted it to his ear. He heard Chris easing Katrina off the bar with gentle apologies. An anxiousness chewed at his gut. Too many times situations like this, a stranger appearing after a monster, left him even more in pieces.

"Leon?" Hunnigan's voice drifted into his ear. "I didn't expect to hear from you for a few more weeks."

"Trust me, I planned to keep it that way. I can't talk long, but I'm pretty sure there's a bio weapon here in the mountains. We found a woman being chased by something that reminded me of a Tyrant. If you starved one."

"We?" Hunnigan parroted.

Leon took a breath. "I ran into Redfield again. Look, the girl's hurt, and we have to ghost. I need you to fact check some things for me, and have someone from the B.S.A.A. meet us at the nearest hospital from our current location. If the thing chasing her was a B.O.W., then there's a chance of more and maybe for an outbreak." Leon shifted as Chris headed towards the door with Katrina in his arms. She looked paler. "She could be infected."

"On it. What do you need referenced?"

"See if there's anything in the compiled information on Umbrella about something called a wendigo. And check about a woman named Katrina Sparrow." Leon could picture Hunnigan rolling her eyes before she replied.

"That's vague, Leon. I'd get dozens of hits from Facebook alone."

"She's short, white, maybe five two, gotta be in her early twenties, light brown hair, green eyes, and a pixie face. Anyone with that description, let me know. We need to head out."

"Alright, I'll do what I can. Be careful, Leon."

"Always am." Leon cut the call just as something slammed against the backdoor. It hit hard enough to shake the entire cabin. "Damn."

It made a noise as it hit the door again. The cry sounded wretched as it rattled the glass, as if in pain. Good, Leon thought as he shouldered the duffle. It was gonna be in a helluva lot more when they finished with it. He snatched Chris's shotgun from against the wall as glass broke behind them. Sharp claws jutted through the tiny window of the door, raking along the wood as it clawed frantically for the knob. Its fingers fumbled with the lock, its claws too long to work it properly. Fuck, that meant it knew how to open doors. Zombies usually didn't retain that much intelligence.

"Move, Chris!" Leon shouted as he threw open the front door.

 _"Giiive heeer baaack!"_ The claws scraped against the knob again, catching at it.

"Like fuck!" Leon turned and aimed for the door. The shot echoed in the small space, making his ears ring. The arm retracted with a sharp squeal. "Go!"

Chris carried Katrina bridal style across the porch as Leon followed. Above them, the roof groaned and shingles dropped to the ground, snapping. An agonized shriek tore through the dark as they rushed towards the jeep, Leon hunting for his keys. The sound of cracking echoed around them like someone snapping chicken bones. The noise stopped, and an eerie quiet fell. Leon twisted around expectant to see nothing.

"Ka-Kat? Are you...are you there?" A male voice floated from all directions. "Kitten, I'm scared. Where are you?" Confusion filled the voice, panic hidden in heightening pitches. "Kitten!"

Katrina lifted her head from Chris's neck as Leon moved to flank their side. The two of them shifted closer together, Leon squeezing the shotgun.

"Andy?" Katrina whispered, her face pinched in disbelief. She looked between Leon and Chris.

"Kitten!" The voice called out again, a deep echo after it like a bass reverberating. "I've been looking for you!"

"Chris." Leon whispered loud enough to draw the other man's attention. "I'm gonna hop in through the passenger side. Follow me in, hold her tight, got it?" Chris nodded. "Alright, we go carefully."

 _"No!"_ A shape moved from their right at the side of the cabin. It bent in on itself before straightening, its body creaking from the effort. It looked to be a slim, young man with a gaunt face and dirty, pale hair. His shoulders carried the remains of a purple and black letter jacket that hung off him in scraps over a filthy sports jersey and torn jeans clung to his waist. His eyes opened, glowing an eerie purple with flecks of green in the dim light. "You...you can't take her."

Leon lifted the shotgun to point at the man. "Back up."

"That's my boyfriend." Katrina whispered. "I thought he was gone."

The thing, Andy apparently, stood still though his body twitched every few seconds. Maybe a hand, or his arm, but he made no move closer, nor any move back. His eyes watched Leon before jerking towards Chris. The gaze was predatory, gauging, like an animal accessing the potential threat of its prey before it attacked.

"I've been looking for you, kitten." His voice was like dry leaves crackling underfoot. Slowly, he took a step forward. "I've missed you so much, kitten."

Chris shifted closer to the jeep as Leon moved between them. Andy's eyes swiveled to him, and he had no doubt, this was something different. He took another step, bare feet scraping over rough gravel.

"Look, she's hurt." Leon said. Maybe the infection hadn't taken full effect. Sometimes they could be reasoned with for brief periods. "We need to take her to the hospital, okay?"

Andy's eyes dropped to the bloodied towel wrapped around Katrina's leg before he tilted his head back to scent the air. Leon's jaw tensed. When those purple eyes settled on Leon again, he hovered his finger over the trigger. He aimed for the head when two small hands shoved the side of his arm, throwing off his shot. He jerked his head to see Katrina fighting Chris. She kicked and clawed at him, gasping. Fresh blood soaked through the towel, dripping to the gravel.

"Don't kill him! Please!" She screamed through her tears.

"Leon!" Chris managed before he and Katrina were knocked away from the vehicle.

Leon wheeled around just as the thing barreled into him, slamming his back into the side of his jeep with a bang before taking him to the ground. Pain erupted from his ribs as Andy pinned him, driving his knees into Leon's lower abdomen. His face shifted like the skin had been stretched over the bones, a hollow hole jutting out of the left side of his jaw, baring his teeth. He snarled in Leon's face and reared back a hand, fingers tapering to pointed claws. Leon shoved against Andy's chest with the side of the shotgun and his other hand. He felt no muscle, just crepe thin skin and brittle bone, but the damn thing refused to budge. The claws dropped towards him.

A combat boot connected to Andy's jaw, a loud crack indicating something broke, before he rolled off Leon. Three shots rang out as Andy staggered to his feet.

"Get up, Leon!" Chris yelled as he discharged three more into Andy's chest.

Leon rolled to his side and managed to his knees as he searched for Katrina. She sat up a few feet from them, eyes wide. The towel around her leg was gripped tight in her hands, soaked through with fresh blood.

"I'm sorry." She mouthed to him. "I'm so sorry." Her eyes shut as Chris slammed into the jeep beside Leon.

Leon jerked back with the shotgun, but the world blurred around him. He felt weightless before the ground crashed up to meet him, a foot in his back. This thing held no muscle, no real mass, but as it bore down on him, he felt like it could break him in half. He let out a strangled shout, clawing for his gun.

"Andy!" The weight eased but didn't lift. Leon looked to see Katrina standing. "Please, please stop." She limped towards them, practically dragging her injured leg. Blood rolled down her shin, and she waved the towel like a banner. "Please don't hurt them."

The weight disappeared as Andy started forward. His head tilted as he scented the air, and Leon felt his stomach drop.

"Get-get away from her!" Leon yelled as he heard Chris stir behind him. "Katrina, run!"

Chris fired off another set of shots though Leon barely registered them as he forced himself up. The shotgun felt heavy in his hands as he tried to aim. No way he could hit it without the chance of catching Katrina.

Andy stopped in front of her shy of touching. His limbs shifted as the cracking sound started again. He had been tall before, above Chris and Leon both by a few inches, but now maybe one or two heads. He leaned down to brush away a tear from Katrina's cheek.

 _"She's mine."_ He whispered, looking back at them both, the tone of voice dripping with covetous intent.

Adrenaline kicked Leon's system like a shock. He threw the shotgun strap around his shoulder as he pulled the knife he kept in his boot free. Chris staggered in his peripheral, but he moved faster. Andy lifted Katrina over his shoulder, and sprinted towards the woods.

"Chris!" Leon yelled.

"Right behind you!" The sound of their boots crashing through the underbrush drowned out the sound of their breathing.

No matter how hard Leon pumped his legs, Andy stayed feet ahead of them despite being barefoot and carrying Katrina, who had gone silent.

"Aim for the legs!" Leon yelled at Chris.

Chris lifted the gun just as Andy jumped into the air ahead of them. He stopped and turned, a smile spreading across his thin lips, splitting the wound that gaped his jaw wider.

"Why did it sto-" The ground gave way under them, opening into a pitch black maw.

Leon and Chris both grabbed for the lip of the hole. Dirt gave way under their scrabbling hands, sending them both plummeting into the dark. The sound of the thing laughing echoed after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome! Updates Wednesdays!
> 
> So. Part of me regrets never finding a beta reader for this, but the other part of me also knows that statistically speaking, at least one person will see this wild adventure of mine to the end because of curiosity.
> 
> And now our plot kicks off into a mission. And we had sex! I'm mainly a smut writer, and sometimes it shows. Nothing seems worse than breaking your afterglow because of monsters. 
> 
> And two out of three OC's have appeared! Yeah. So Katrina and Andy weren't designed for this fic. I originally had it going in a completely different direction, but I wasn't in the mindset to explore what I had intended to after my mom passed away earlier in the year. Not from suicide. Health stuff. I just couldn't go about that storyline, and that may be part of why I picked Andy and Kat. Familiarity?
> 
> Katrina and Andy are OC's from a story I've been working on since 2008. I chose them because their story involves the dead coming back to life but not your traditional zombie story. Their story involves alternate worlds and magic. There will be NO MAGIC in this fic. I really just used as much as I needed from their story.  
> When I edited the idea from Leon tries to kill himself to this, I went on the vein of monsters in the woods. And there are lots of creepy shit in the woods where I live. Though the wendigo legend is more a northern story, I ended up thinking on it and that's what made me think of Andy. Andy led to Katrina and that's where we sit now.
> 
> I'll admit in this chapter that I'm worried about them. Fics with original characters having larger roles need to talk big and carry big sticks. I hope even though I chose to use them, it's still a good read. If it's not, I'm sorry. I have some AU ideas in the works without OC's.


	4. Chapter Four

Leon struck out blindly with his hands in an attempt to grab anything as he fell, the dirt giving way to smooth stone. His fingers caught on a vine, snapping it before he even tightened his grip. He squeezed his eyes shut as he hit hard, the wind leaving him in a rattling gasp. Chris’s flashlight scuttled across the floor before it smacked against his head. He struggled to take a breath and heard Chris cough at his side. The light moved to shine above his face. He grunted and lifted a hand to cover his eyes.

“You still with me, Kennedy?” A rough hand smacked Leon’s cheek. 

Leon struggled for breath until the pain in his back subsided. A dull throb pulsed against his ribs, and he swatted Chris’s hand. He coughed, pressing his palm over his eyes.

“We’re getting too fucking old for this shit.” He muttered while Chris let out a humorless chuckle, shoving himself up. “What the hell did we fall into?” He dropped his hand onto his stomach.

“My guess?” Chris held his hand down to help Leon to his feet. “Mine shaft.”

“That thing knew this was here.” Leon took his hand, pushing himself up. “It fucking jumped over it, Chris.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Chris glanced up at the opening. It looked to be a good twenty feet above them. “No way we can climb out either.”

Chris shifted to shine the light around the space. Kudzu vine dangled from the opening and down the walls in thick sheets. It covered the floor, likely what softened their landing, and branched up the other side of the hole. Leon took a step forward and swiped a hand across the free hanging vines to part them, watching as Chris turned his light down a long tunnel. Thick timber reinforced the walls between wide sections of gobbing, chisel marks still prominent in the stone. A cool breeze whistled ahead of them with the scent of earth and pine.

“If there’s a breeze, there’s an opening.” He nodded to Chris when his phone chirped as a video call. He pulled it out to answer. “Reception may be shit, Hunnigan. We fell in a hole.”

“You fell in a hole?” She muttered.

“Right into a mine shaft looks like.” Leon walked back to the opening. “That thing showed up again and grabbed the girl.” He lifted his free hand to scrub at his face. The sound of dripping water echoed deeper in the tunnel. “Did you find anything?”

“I’m not sure.” He could hear her typing, a new message pinged on his device. “There was a news article with a Katrina Sparrow that matched your description. I sent it to you.” Hunnigan came into view, the harsh light of the screen washing out her expression. “I also searched the files we have on hand of Umbrella, but I couldn’t find anything about a wendigo. I did find a Native American legend with that name of a spirit that possesses people who resort to cannibalism. The legend says its hunger is immense, and it eats without ever feeling full, and one victim is never enough.”

“It’s like the plot of Until Dawn.” Chris muttered. Leon blinked, turning a confused look at him. “It’s a video game.” The look intensified. “I have free time sometimes.”

“Right.” Leon turned his attention back to Hunnigan. “Did you find anything useful about the area?”

Hunnigan frowned. “Nothing much. Before it became a national park, some of the land belonged to a local mining and train company. Unfortunately, the owner of the mine wasn’t keen on keeping records, so I can’t tell you for certain where to go from here. I’m running a search for an up to date map. All the ones I’ve found have been a few decades old and vary.”

“Going in blind, just like normal.” Leon sighed. “We can feel a breeze, so that means there’s an opening somewhere. We’ll head to it.” The sound of crickets started above him followed by the low hoot of an owl.

“I’ve sent a small unit to rendezvous with you and Redfield. They should be there in about three hours. Keep me updated.” The communication ended.

“Always do.” Leon muttered as he opened the article. His brows furrowed. “Chris.”

Chris leaned over his shoulder as he tapped the image to enlarge it. A photo of Katrina and Andy sitting at a booth smiled up at them. The letter jacket, whole and sporting a violet 17 and the name Payne, sat wrapped around Katrina’s shoulders. Underneath the image, the caption read “Photo taken hours before couple reported missing from Midtown, Michigan”.

“They must have been trafficked here.” Leon muttered.

“Look at the date.” Chris lifted a hand to point towards the top of the article.

The date read September 25th, 2008. They had been missing for six years.

“She was dirty and bloodied, but she looked the same.” Leon glanced at Chris who gave a grim nod. Even the way her bangs parted looked the same in the photograph. His eyes dropped back to the image. “It’s really never going to stop, is it? Umbrella, tearing apart people’s lives.”

Chris paused a moment before resting his hand on Leon’s shoulder. It felt warm through the fabric of his shirt, the grip turned tight. He shifted closer to Chris.

“Probably not.” He said without any bite, like a simple fact. Their eyes met. “But if we do nothing, it sure as hell will get worse. We’re the only people here right now that can stop this.” He nudged Leon’s cheek. “I need you to have my back, Leon. I’ve got yours, okay?”

The look in Chris’s eyes was neither hard or soft. It was determined. They had a mission fall into their laps, one they needed to see through. His hand lifted, and Chris clapped them together and squeezed.

“I’ve got your back.” Leon smiled as they parted, passing off the duffle. “But you know, one of us is going to have to put a bullet in that girl’s face in the end.”

“If it’s her or us.” Chris said gently as he shouldered his bag.

Yeah. Her or them.

The tunnel stretched ahead of them with an occasional curve and branching space that dead ended a few dozen feet into open chambers. Many other sections were blocked by old cave ins or abandoned mining equipment like rusted carts. A series of rotting coal chutes lined one wall with faded dates etched into their sides for when the vein had been drilled. Chris pressed his hand to Leon’s chest more than once when they heard the low rumble of rock shifting somewhere deeper in the mine. The floor under them shifted after a particularly close collapse. 

Leon glanced up at the timber supporting the ceiling over them. In some places, it looked to be an entire log split down the middle, and in others the weight of the rock buckled the decaying wood. Much of it looked ready for its complete collapse. He only hoped he and Chris were long gone when that happened.

The breeze continued to coax them forward until thirty minutes passed, and it revealed itself to be another collapsed opening into the mine. The rubble around it left a short hill the two of them needed to climb, though escape loomed out of reach. Even if the unstable ground would hold enough for Chris to heft Leon onto his shoulders, they realized he would be an arm’s length too short to reach the lip. They both swore as they scrambled down the other side. 

Warm, stagnate air met them this time mixed with the sickly sweet reek of decay that soured their stomachs briefly. It was one of the most common things they smelled, less a hazard of the job and more an expectation, and that spoke volumes to their psyches and willingness to soldier on. The stench was too much to be a single animal that died along the path. This was the smell of a mass grave.

Ahead the tunnel forked with the left side blocked by a collapse, and the right led to a door. Chris lifted his flashlight to illuminate the fading Umbrella logo sprawled in chipped paint on the rusted metal. They both let out frustrated groans.

“If we had any doubts.” He murmured as he pressed his arm to the crossbar. “I’m sorry, Leon.”

Leon glanced at him as they pushed the door open together. The smell intensified, like it had been sitting behind the door waiting for someone to release it. 

“For what?” He asked as he looked around the corridor. 

The walls were made of concrete with corroded steel bars bracing the ceiling. A light flickered on and off down the hall, bathing the walls in an eerie off shade of red. The soft thrum of electricity pulsed in the quiet.

“Dragging you into another mission.” Chris sighed. “I just wanted to check on you.” Well, he’d done a little more than that.

“Tch. Don’t let it inflate your head, Redfield, but if you _hadn’t_ gotten involved in my business, I would have had to take that wendigo monster on by myself.”

“I’m sure you could have handled it.” Chris chuckled softly.

That...wasn’t a guarantee. Solo missions against these things always yielded a higher probability of survival than a group. The B.O.W.s were designed to eradicate entire cells, decimate armies, or an enemy city’s population. They should have had the advantage against a single combatant, but experience always made it seem that the ability to wipe out large groups cost the finesse of handling one or two individuals. Even small teams of no more than five could fall in an instant when someone became infected.

And then there were the survivors of Raccoon City. Leon had no idea what made them special when other agents, other soldiers, with the same level of training met their end at the hands of these abominations. What made them different? Maybe they knew what to expect, knew the tricks, and the way these fuckers came for you. Or maybe they were bad omens? Maybe they put everyone else around them in danger. Maybe-

“Get out of your head, Leon.” Chris’s voice was soft but stern as they moved.

“I’m not.” He started when Chris spared a glance over his shoulder. The breath he let out caused the older man to pause. He needed to let it out, or it would eat him alive. “You ever think we’re bad luck?”

Chris turned around, the light from his flashlight bouncing off the stone floor.

“More times than I’d like to admit.” He said, looking at the ground. “But it’s not true. What lets us come back alive isn’t some mythic force. It’s our past experiences, our training, our instincts.” His hand came up to rest on Leon’s shoulder. “Our determination. We’re going to die one day.” His eyes locked on Leon’s, and there was fear, worry, but it shifted as Chris smiled. “But until that day comes, we owe it to every last person who died before us to keep fighting. If we give up and don’t go screaming into the end, they died for nothing. We owe it to them.”

Leon’s chest constricted. Chris was right, they walked in a trail of their fallen comrades’ blood, but it wasn’t something to feel shame or guilt over. Every bloodied step meant the person before them moved forward with them to end the fight, to help save one more life. It meant their sacrifice had been important, that it wouldn’t be forgotten.

“Heh, you’re such a fucking boy scout.” Leon shook his head, nodding down the hall. “Come on, we need to get out of here. Abandoned or not, we both know this fucking death trap’s loaded with leftover monsters.”

Chris turned the light back down the hall to catch on a glint of a tarnished doorknob. The door itself stood ajar with papers scattered on the floor outside of it. A sign hung from the ceiling on two flimsy chains that read Research and Development Wing B in thick, black lettering. They eased towards the open door, noticing there were more down the hall though many of them had construction tape across their fronts. The papers rustled as Chris knelt at the door, sifting through them. Leon nudged the door open the rest of the way as he stepped around Chris. It groaned on its hinges, echoing in the silence.

A row of tables stood against one of the walls with several stacks of boxes and covered equipment sitting on them. The light caught on a row of the cabinets, many of them empty, with their doors open. Several of the boxes were open with kits wrapped in dusty plastic sitting inside them. He took a step further in, turning to see a blue mag light sitting on the table nearest the door. Its layer of dust looked fresh compared to the clipboard beside it.

“I think someone’s been here before us.” Leon muttered as he lifted it from the table, making a space in the dust. The metal felt cool against his skin and heavy. His thumb hovered over the button before he pressed it. It came on with a loud click. “Urban exploration junkies maybe.”

He turned to start towards the cabinet, running the light over the sides of the boxes. The worn labels read “sample collection” and three kits sat to the side still wrapped in plastic. Leon chewed his lip as he looked into one of the cabinets, finding a medical kit. He took it out, opened it to find it full, and shut it again, tucking it under his arm. 

“I think this was a new facility.” Chris straightened, the papers crinkling in his hand. 

“I was thinking the same thing.” Leon turned around. “Looks like they were in the middle of unpacking before their creatures bit the hand that engineered.”

“Yeah.” Chris handed the papers to Leon as he took the kit to stow in his bag. “Take a look at these.”

Leon took them, scanning over the first page. Most of it was the normal jargon he had become accustomed to when dealing with Umbrella and its ilk. It mentioned new procedures for operation, security declarations, and medical personnel codes of conduct. There was even an order form for Hunter and Tyrant material that hadn’t been completed. He turned to the next pages to see what looked to be printed log entries. 

_September 26th, 2008_

_Subjects 001 and 002 have arrived ahead of schedule. The lab is not fully functional, but preparations are running smoothly. Both have been placed under heavy sedation until the lab’s restraint systems can be made operational. Blood testing will be conducted by Dr. Ezekiel himself on Subject 001 later in the evening. Samples from Subject 002 have been provided from salvaged documentation of Spencer hospital prior to the destruction of Raccoon City._

Leon frowned. Salvaged from Spencer hospital? Dr. Ezekiel? He didn’t recall that name when he had been in the city. He turned to the next page.

_Subject 001_

_Sex: Male_

_Age: 22_

_Height: 6’5_

_Weight: 210lbs_

_Blood Type: O -_

_Provided by Dr. Ezekiel. Subject is a male with partial Native American and suspected Germanic European heritage. Unknown medical history though there is strong speculation on former extensive drug use. Potential prions disease carrier as well. On the doctor’s own account, considered a prime candidate for Project Wendigo given the Subject’s lineage as well as history based on his hailing tribe._

_September 26th, 2008_

_Subject exhibits a high tolerance for sedation medication, increased dosage as needed to keep docile. Do not mention Subject 002 at this time. Will only anger the Subject._

_October 1st, 2008_

_During testing when sedation is decreased, is noted to interact with unseen entities. Attempts to warn staff of “monsters” in the darkness. Refers to one in particular by name “Altsoba” but when prompted becomes unresponsive. No known records of the name found in the Subject’s history prior._

_Further testing required to discern if termination is necessary. Dr. Ezekiel may be wrong._

“Project Wendigo?” Leon muttered. “What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know.” Chris said as he tucked a few rolls of loose gauze into his bag. “It wasn’t in the files. You should see if you can reach Hunnigan again to find out if there’s anything about that Dr. Ezekiel.”

“Yeah. It said something about the Spencer hospital, too.” Leon flipped to the last page.

_Subject 002_

_Sex: Female_

_Age: 20_

_Height: 5’2_

_Weight: 98lbs_

_Blood Type: AB+_

_Provided by Dr. Ezekiel at the same time as Subject 001. Subject is a female of a mixed European background. Medical history has been provided by Dr. Ezekiel himself as well as old records from Spencer hospital of the former Raccoon City. On the doctor’s own orders, the Subject will not be used for the same testing of Project Wendigo as Subject 001, but instead will be used as a catalyst for the former Subject. Potential future testing will be conducted for the currently unauthorized Project Doll._

_September 26th, 2008_

_Subject exhibits a high tolerance for pain and physical trauma. Distal radial and ulnar fracture occurred to left wrist in attempt to escape during transport. Subject continued to flee with protrusions from wrist. Suffered an orbital fracture to the left portion of face during security take down and subsequent sedation. Surgery required to fix these damages._

_October 1st, 2008_

_When sedation is decreased, Subject has been documented to lure staff close in an attempt to maim them. Soft restraints have been applied. Two orderlies have been placed on medical leave after suffering severe facial lacerations. A gag has been applied as well._

_October 2nd, 2008_

_Subject has been documented dislocating own joints to free self from soft restraints. Attacked a female staff member to acquire key card. Held another staff member hostage with scalpel before being detained by Dr. Ezekiel. Full sedation and heavy restraints have been authorized. Due to the Subject’s aggression, do not lift sedation outside of secure testing areas. ___

__What the hell were they doing to them? Chris took the pages from Leon to stick in his bag as they headed back into the hall._ _

__“Looks like the girl was a hell cat.” Leon muttered as he took out his phone, sending the name Ezekiel to Hunnigan. “Not that it did her much good if she was stuck here for years.”_ _

__“I wonder about that.” Chris said. “I think we’re in for surprises, Leon.”_ _

__He only hoped that surprise wouldn’t be a bite to the neck._ _

__“Keep your ears out. We’ve not seen any yet, but where there are bio weapons, there are zombies.” Leon muttered as he rounded the corner._ _

__The telltale sign of an outbreak started in the form of shattered glass crunching under their boots. Doors hung off their hinges with deep scours in the metal. Pock marks from the occasional bullet littered the walls, and spatters of old blood covered the floor in patches. Many of the labs looked destroyed with tables smashed and cabinets torn from the wall. Ahead of them they saw another door, a series of long, bloodied drag marks stopping at it. A bloodied hand print sat above the bar. They moved cautiously toward it._ _

__Leon’s hand rested on the bar as Chris settled beside him and gave a nod before they shoved the door open. The smell of rot slammed into them both like a fucking fully loaded truck. Actually, Leon felt certain the semi that plowed into the squad car he and Claire were in had been far more gentle. By a metric fuck ton._ _

__“Jesus!” He lifted his hand to cover his mouth, not that it did much good. They were both going to taste it for weeks._ _

__Chris made a noise behind him as Leon shoved the door the rest of the way open. A few of the emergency lights flickered on and off down the hall, bathing it in that same off color red with splashes of clear light. On second glance, the lights were white, Leon could make out the smallest flicker from underneath spatterings of blood. His eyes took in the hall, how the walls were soaked in it. Bodies, or pieces rather, sat in a half circle towards the center of the corridor. Deep claw marks were etched into the tile floor until it bared rock with drag marks heading for the heap. Scraps of cloth and shoes lay scattered behind the bodies like something sat there separating them into piles._ _

__“What the fuck.” He and Chris muttered in unison._ _

__There wasn’t enough left of the bodies to move even with the T Virus, but they both took care in stepping around what looked to be more intact corpses._ _

__"These are too fresh to be dead for years." Chris muttered as he shown his light over an almost intact hand. The flesh was a putrid green in places, but not as decayed as he'd have expected. "They must have just gotten out."_ _

__Leon’s boot caught on another pile near the mass of gore, the bodies having congealed and decayed into a mess of fat and putrid liquid. He flicked the light down, his breath catching in his throat._ _

__“Holy fucking shit. Those are bones.”_ _

__Chris was against his side, pressed tight. They were stacked neatly with deep gouges like something nibbled at them. It looked as if they had been picked clean, as if whatever had de-fleshed them ensured it didn’t leave a single scrap behind. Hunnigan’s words floated through Leon’s mind._ _

__“A spirit of cannibalism.” He breathed, turning to look at the shreds of clothing. “I...the zombies the viruses make. They _eat_ people, but they don’t pick the goddamn bones like a Thanksgiving turkey.”_ _

__Chris turned away, shining his light in the center of the mass of remains. The pile looked gathered like it had pulled the bodies to itself, eating at its leisure. A trail of sneaker prints tracked from the puddle of dried blood down the hall behind them._ _

__“I don’t think we have to worry about zombies, Leon.” He muttered. “That thing didn’t leave anything intact enough to turn.”_ _

__Towards the door out, they noticed more signs of a fight. Sporadic peppering covered one side of the wall while spent casings littered the floor not far from hunks of body armor. A riot helmet leaned against the wall. Chris nudged it with his foot, a jaw bone tumbling out. An assault rifle lay near it, and Chris moved to check it over, swearing after a moment._ _

__“Clip’s bust. They must have unloaded everything into this thing.” He glanced back at Leon. “It’s gonna take a fucking shit load of ammo.”_ _

__Leon snorted. “Doesn’t everything we go after? It’s like big game trophy hunting, Redfield. You don’t bag an elephant with a gun made for deer.”_ _

__“Yeah, well, we sure as shit don’t have an elephant gun for this thing.” He gestured to the shotgun. “Unless we get lucky and manage to jam that right in its mouth. And I dunno about you, but I don’t want anywhere near that thing’s teeth.”_ _

__“Maybe not without some mouthwash.” Leon replied._ _

__Chris smiled, a quip on his lips when the room quaked under their feet. He caught the wall to balance himself, as Leon stumbled into him. Dust rained down from overhead as spiderweb cracks appeared in the cement. Chris grabbed Leon by the arm roughly and started to haul him down the hall when the first chunk of concrete dropped from the ceiling a few feet away. The wall behind them split, spilling in dirt and small chunks of rock as the floor rocked from what felt like a distant explosion. Larger rocks dropped in behind them, a few stray pieces of concrete breaking between the steel bars as the ceiling started to give way. Their lights bounced along the corridor before they caught on thicker steel girders welded together ahead of them._ _

__“Up ahead! I think it’ll hold!” Chris shouted as he practically yanked Leon’s arm out of socket._ _

__“I think a couple tons of rock can bend that!” Leon shouted back as Chris hit the door._ _

__“Have some faith, Kennedy! It’s this or nothing!”_ _

__The room opened into a squat lobby that split off into two hallways. The door behind them filled with rock, and the rest of the room shook from the force, cracks forming along the tiled floor. A sign overhead pointed to elevators on the right while the left said something about offices. Leon moved forward toward the exit when the ground trembled again, breaking into hunks, as a fissure opened underneath them. He flailed, pitching forward, when Chris snagged the back of his jeans and yanked roughly. They twisted, Chris’s chest slamming into Leon’s as he pinned them both to the wall while rock collapsed from the ceiling, dropping into the cavern. Dust scattered around them._ _

__He stared into Chris’s eyes as the ceiling gave a final shudder, the rest of the room going quiet save for a few small rocks tumbling down onto the pile at the center of the room. Their breath came in pants, and all he could feel was Chris’s heart pounding between their chests. The part of the floor they stood on hugged the wall and managed to form a ledge that kept them from falling into the chasm. The hall leading to the elevators was completely blocked by rocks and broken hunks of steel._ _

__Leon felt his breath hitch as Chris shifted, his hands on either side of Leon’s head. Their hearts still raced, and he felt how warm Chris was through their shirts._ _

__“You know,” Leon mumbled after a moment, “I only let people slam me into a wall after like the third date. Or a really good steak dinner.”_ _

__Chris blinked before letting out a laugh, dipping his head to rest against Leon’s shoulder._ _

__“Fuck.” He shifted to the side, resting a hand lower on the wall. “When we get out of this, you and I are going to the ritziest fucking steakhouse I can find. We’re gonna need goddamn ties, Leon!”_ _

__Leon peeled away from the wall, checking for his handgun in its holster. He looked up to meet Chris’s eyes. For some reason, he wanted that, a real date, a real night with Chris. One where they could lay in each other’s arms instead of run off to fight a monster. Just a night between them. God, he needed a real fucking vacation._ _

__“It’s a date, Redfield.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome, we update on Wednesdays!
> 
> I know we're still in the early chapters, but working on this fic's been an adventure for me. Trying to blend in edited parts of Kat and Andy's story has been interesting. There's still a bit of the road to twist through, so I hope it still makes sense.
> 
> Most of their story comes through the scattered papers which I wanted like in game. You miss a lot of the plot if you just run and gun. I tried not to be too heavy handed with it. Also, because I can't help myself, September 25th, 2008 was the day I created Katrina. Andy actually didn't come along until October.
> 
> I'll see all of you next year!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I combined two chapters because it felt a little short with the first one.
> 
> Edited the tags again.

Small tremors rocked the compound several times as Chris and Leon moved towards the office hall. They calmed as they stopped in the arch leading up the stairs. A directory hung beside them, listing several departments and locations for that wing. It showed Dr. Ezekiel’s office on the second floor at the end of the hall. Chris tightened his hold on his bag, starting up the steps, when something crunched under his boot. He flicked his light down to see a speck of blue on the stair. It looked like a small stone, and Chris bent to collect it, holding it up by a strip of black cord. A turquoise gem dangled off a silver loop with a smooth metal backing. 

“Someone must have dropped it.” He mumbled as he ran his fingers over it. A thin latch caught against Chris’s fingertip. “What’s this?”

“I think it’s a locket.” Leon watched Chris ease it open. “Maybe it has a key or something.”

Inside was a picture of a teenage Andy, his arm slung around a younger boy with short black hair. The other boy pressed his hand against Andy’s cheek to fend off a kiss while trying to hide his smile. Leon looked at the other side to see an inscription in the silver. _For my stupid big brother_

Chris chuckled, and passed the locket to Leon. “Claire gave me something like that before I joined the military.” He started up the steps again. “Her inscription was nicer though.”

The locket felt cold against Leon’s skin as he examined the picture. Both brothers looked happy. He turned the necklace over in search of any other latches or buttons. When he found none, he slipped it into his pocket, following Chris. He wondered what sort of inscription or trinket Claire had given him. He did recall when they met she had one of Chris’s tactical knives, so they likely gifted weapons. It seemed like a very Redfield thing to do.

“You two are really close, yeah?” Leon muttered as they moved onto the landing, stopping at the door between the floors. Chris eased it open carefully. Dried blood greeted them as well as more drag marks leading down the hall. “I remember how frantic she was looking for you.” How desperate, how unyielding in her search. What would it have been like for her to have lost him? Leon...didn’t know. He was an only child. Pain, he imagined, beyond anything he ever felt.

The carpet along the hall had been peeled back in chunks in places, torn in others with large sections gone. A long strip was missing outside an open conference room where the worst of the blood had congealed on the concrete. Chris flicked his light into the room, pressing a hand to Leon’s chest as he pulled the door shut. He nodded further down the hall. Ever a man of defiance, he cracked the door to see another series of piles. The missing carpet strips were arranged away from the bodies in what looked to have been a nest, bones strewn about it. He pressed his lips thin and shut the door, passing a waiting room with several long dead ferns.

“Yeah, we’re really close.” Chris said as he glanced back at Leon, smile soft. “When our parents died, it was just us.”He turned down a branching section of hall and waved Leon on. “She was the only person that mattered to me. Until I joined the air force. Met great people. And again when I joined S.T.A.R.S.” Chris’s lips twitched at the corners. “We had a lot of great people in that squad.” He stopped at another conference room, peering in. “You have any siblings, Leon?”

Leon pressed against Chris’s side to look into the room. A white board stood in one corner with photos of Andy and Katrina mingled with images of old Tyrant and hunter models. The chairs around the table had been thrown about the room, and wide puddles of blood had dried on the carpet. A broken coffee pot sat smashed into the table, some shards of its glass even embedded in the wood. Papers and files lay strewn about, soaked through with either blood or coffee. Leon spied an undamaged, mostly, file at the end of the table while Chris examined the board. He picked it up to see the name Project Wendigo in wide block letters. 

“No.” He said when it felt like the silence drug on too long. “I was an only kid.”

“Bummer.” Chris muttered, pulling the photos from the board.

Leon’s childhood wasn’t terrible, he’d never say it was, just lonely. Of course he had friends, but most of them had siblings, and he always wondered what it would be like. The good and the bad. Meeting Claire brought that curiosity back to the surface a little stronger than when he was a child. What did it feel like to feel so attached to someone else? To throw up everything to find them because gut instinct said something was wrong? Would he have called a sibling for comfort after his nightmares? Would they have worried about him like Claire worried about Chris? Leon had his studies and his passions. Things that distracted him then, but seemed to have been a bandage now. And it wasn’t like he talked to his parents that often. His life had always had a sense of loneliness to it. A sense he didn’t quite realize was there until the last few years. 

“Leon?”

It wasn’t something he could control. Not something he could reflect on at this moment. It needed to go in the box for a little while longer before it could be unpacked and dealt with.

“Yeah?” He looked back to see Chris watching him, concern in his eyes.

“You okay?”

“Fine. Get those other pictures. We’ll need them when this whole place inevitably self destructs.” He grinned without meaning, opening the file to see Andy’s laughing face staring up at him. Leon felt his gut lurch. 

The first few pages looked like surveillance images of Andy and Katrina leaving a cafe together, arm in arm. Another showed them with a group of people, one that looked like the brother in the locket, heading to an outdoor concert. The two of them looked happy as they danced. It left a sour feeling in Leon’s mouth that they had lost that happiness. The following page was a medical checkup for Andy that included blood results. A few sticky notes were pressed to the pages in a hurried script.

 **Subject 001 still hears voice. Deteriorated mental state** The name Altsoba sat scrawled underneath. The next page looked to be a printout of an email.

_To: Dr. Ezekiel_

_From: Dr. Wallace_

_Subject: Unstable Recipient of W Virus_

_Dr. Ezekiel, I’m aware you have pre selected the candidates for your projects, but I have to inform you as not only your colleague, but as a medical professional Subject 001 is unfit for further testing. Since administering the viral agent, Subject 001 has become increasingly aggressive, and continues to go on about creatures in the shadows. His psychosis likely stems from some tripe his “ancestors” fed him as a boy, but I do not feel like he would have the mental capacity to come through these tests how you’ve hypothesized._

_Subject 002 did help to calm him in the beginning as you predicted, but once he was made aware of her condition, he reacted with extreme anger. Ezekiel, the boy ripped an orderly’s arm off and began to eat it. All the while screaming about how the wendigo would find him. I don’t know what you’ve said to the boy during your sessions, but you have him fully enthralled in his psychosis. The mutated prions disease within him is having an adverse reaction to the virus._

_I fear that if we continue with him in the state that he is, once we achieve any results suitable for combat testing, we will be unable to control him. Please consider termination. If not for the boy’s tortured mental state, then for the safety of this lab. Those higher up would not like another debacle so soon after what happened with WillPharma._

_Signed_

_Dr. Edwin Wallace_

_Secondary Research Scientist_

Leon shifted the papers to find more photos of Andy. With each one, his face looked more sallow, hollow, like he’d been starved. Skin hung taut against his bones like his muscles completely atrophied, framing his ribs and pelvis. It reminded Leon of war footage. Of internment camps.

“They called what they infected Andy with the W Virus. Seems like one of the doctors was worried he might bite the hand that mutated him.” He passed the file to Chris. 

“Hubris will be the death of many.” Chris replied as they headed back into the hall, tucking the file into his bag.

The remainder of the conference rooms held little of interest, mainly the beginning stages of discussions on previous experiments, and where they went wrong. There were even depictions of “Mr. X” and Nemesis on some of the boards. A few files they came across discussed possibilities of acquiring more test subjects as well as a series of dormant lickers, but it seemed the facility never managed to obtain the bastards.

The hall turned another corner and opened into a reception room with a door leading towards the doctor offices. A waist high wall blocked in the reception area with much of the receptionist’s desk scattered across the floor. A woman’s head sat on the wall while the mostly skeletal remains of her body lay supine across the carpet. Not far from her, they saw the remains of more security units in a heap. Unlike the earlier bodies, these looked more intact. Leon gripped his gun a little tighter.

“How much do you bet they’re gonna get up the second one of us steps over them.” He muttered to Chris.

Chris glanced around the floor near the debris of the secretary desk, walking over to pick up a glass paperweight with a series of spiderweb cracks in its colored glass. He bounced it in his hand before giving it a good throw just beyond the pile of bodies. It shattered loudly. They held their breath, Leon lifting his handgun in time with Chris. 

“Pretty sure we’re still-oh.” Chris quieted as one of the forms moved, jerking underneath the pile. “Look, we had a Sleeping Beauty after all.”

The zombie shoved the other bodies aside, most of its face eaten either by the wendigo or rats. Though they actually hadn’t seen any rats or other creatures in the facility. While odd, it did hold itself to be a good sign as to why there had been no reported outbreaks in the area. The idea of a zombified wolf or bear seemed terrifying honestly. Chris’s handgun cracked as the zombie managed to get itself up, hitting it right between the eyes. Its head exploded, leaving it to waver before collapsing back into the pile. The shot echoed down the hall.

They stood there a minute longer, listening for any other signs of the dead. When the quiet remained, they moved over the bodies, Leon leading as he read the office names. Many of them were empty with a few having a solitary desk or chair inside. The hall dead ended with the last office, and the name Dr. E. S. Ezekiel was printed in bold, white letters to the right of the door. Below it was “Lead Researcher” and a mess of numbers. The door hung ajar, making Leon’s rookie self envious for the lack of effort. Why did people always need stupidly shaped keys? Who even thought to lock a damn door in the middle of an apocalypse anyways?

“Hey, why did the R.C.P.D. have so many stupid fucking keys?” He asked.

Chris snorted. “Irons was a paranoid motherfucker, man. That’s all I can say. They tried to say it was a leftover from when the department was an art gallery, but I call bullshit.”

Well, considering what Claire discovered about the chief, he could believe that. He pushed open the door, lifting his flashlight. The interior looked clean compared to the rest of the facility. The only out of place things were the sneaker prints in blood on the carpet, though they just...stopped right in front of the desk. Leon took a step forward, looking around as Chris followed him in.

A long dead ficus sat to one corner near a bookcase, its shelves buckling from the weight of books and folders piled on top of each other. Two arm chairs sat in front of the desk, and a matching love seat stood against the other wall. The desk sat in the middle with a few picture frames on top and an open ledger. Leon slipped around it to look at the pages, turning the book to the first page. The handwriting was sloppy and globs of spilled ink blotted out some of the words.

_September 25th, 2008_

_I’ve decided to ignore Wallace and his whining. I can’t wait any longer. I need to begin these projects now. Before it’s too late._

_September 30th, 2008_

_Katrina responded poorly in testing today. Her heart rate has been fluctuating just like her did. too late ver serum. She’s the key. The little brat denied me once, not again._

_October 16th, 2008_

_Andrew’s delirium is worsening. Wallace thinks we need to terminate him, but he doesn’t realize this is what I’ve been looking for. The disgusting vermin was never good enough for her. How dare he put his hands on her. My creation. I’ll see her ripped to pieces before he has her again._

_He keeps mentioning this Altsoba creature. He wasn’t that bright before the methamphetamine. What did she see in you? She was bred to be better. Wretched thing._

_November 29th, 2008_

_Stupid fucking girl. Why won’t she listen? She’s begun to anticipate the pain of the testing phases. It started with just her fingers, but then it became bits of skin. Wallace said her own tongue. Ungrateful, mewling little brat. Can’t she see this is bigger than her? Bigger than me?_

_December 12th, 2008_

_Project Wendigo is in full effect. Andrew has become more docile when he sees Katrina. We have to keep her sedated to avoid any further drew is protective still. Despite the psychosis and virus coursing through him. H sponds to her emotional state._

_January 2nd, 2009_

_Katrina is beginning to annoy me. She’s slipped her restraints. Again. She’s confused. We need to run a scan._

_February 17th, 2009_

_Andrew has been whispering to himself through the night. One of the orderlies attempted to gag him. He will not be missed. The moron was warned not to go near Andrew while he was having an episode. At least, he seems to have calmed considerably after eating most of the orderly’s face._

_March 18th, 2009_

_Project Doll has been green lit. Soon, my love. Soon._

_April 23rd, 2009_

_Andrew’s progress has been remarkable. He may not be much smarter than before, but he’s become almost docile. We should be able to begin field testing soon._

_May 27th, 2009_

_It seems fitting that the final testing is on her birthday. Andrew seems to remember it as well. He’s already been dispatched to take care of a local group snooping around the access tunnels near the incomplete sections of the labs. He brought Katrina the heart of the first one he came across. Perplexing considering his ravenous hunger that he wouldn’t eat it himself. Perhaps he recollects the day and intended to make it a gift. Doubtful._

_Katrina has lost most of her will to move. She’s become fairly lethargic in this state. It will be easy to begin harvesting her. I never thought the day would come._

_May 28th, 2009_

_Removal of her heart was a failure. Regeneration to the tissue was sporadic at best, and as such we needed to replace her original. It has caused more complications to her memory and delayed her healing considerably. Testing run on the organs shows it has fused with her virus, and is the origin of her abilities. I attempted several means to harvest tissue from it. A few have been successful, though many have resulted in the samples decaying rapidly within moments of removal._

_I ran tests on her heart, and even stopped it via both electrical shock as well as medication. Both times have successfully resulted in what is actual brain death for extended periods of time. Revival of the heart involved a process of re-injecting her with the initial infectious virus. Results are adequate as she recovers memories and motor functions from being deceased for a considerable amount of time. At this moment, she is unable to remember much, or do more than breathe and swallow. Testing shows a slowly strengthening brain wave, and I will begin dragging out her memories._

_It is quite remarkable that the secondary re-infection doesn’t change her into one of those drooling, mindless things of the T-Virus. Something is different._

_May 30th, 2009_

_Andrew has been acting strangely. His voice...changes. I swear he sounded like Wallace earlier in our sessions. I’ve also heard him sound similar to a few orderlies he’s maimed. It’s unusual and needs more testing. I don’t like the way he watches me either. He was never a smart boy before this process, but this is a different kind of intelligence. It’s like he’s memorizing my movements, and every so often during the session, I caught him mimicking something I said. Just, muttering it under his breath. Like he was experimenting with it._

_June 2nd, 2009_

_Katrina has recovered from her heart trauma, but her memory is still severely compromised. She still believes it to be the day of her harvesting, her birthday. I have started more testing with her virus to strengthen her heart. She is still just the prototype._

_I plan to test blood trials today._

_June 12th, 2009_

_They’ve escaped. I don’t know how much longer before they fi-_ The ink trailed off in a broken line. 

Leon lifted his head to look at the photos scattered across the desk. The one nearest him, a wedding photo, showed a young man, likely Dr. Ezekiel, wearing a tailored suit and square rimmed glasses. His green eyes reminded Leon of Katrina’s in shape and color, and he had a short, light brown beard while his hair was slicked back. The bride was a proudly grinning blonde who held up a piece of cake for him. Her blue eyes looked at her groom with deep infatuation. For a moment, he was reminded of Glen Arias.

The second photo showed the blonde holding the hand of a little boy with the same green eyes as the doctor. The woman held something in her other arm, though it had been cut out. Odd. He picked up the frame to examine it, seeing wisps of light brown hair against the woman’s black dress, and the pastel green of something draped over her arm. Had she been holding a baby?

The last photo sat on its face, but when Leon lifted it, he saw it was of the woman with her arms wrapped around the shoulders of a little girl. The head of the girl had been removed. He held it out toward Chris.

“What do you think of this?” He asked.

Chris turned, arching a brow as he looked at it. “Someone has a grudge against that kid.”

“Seems that way.” Leon sat the photo down and noticed a splotch of blood on the desk. “You know. We never did run across the lab. The actual lab.” 

Chris nodded as Leon leaned closer. The mat on the desk looked off skew with a discoloration between the crooked edge and the rest of the desk. He met Chris’s eyes before peeling it back to find a switch with a bloodied hand print over it.

“Secret tunnel?” Chris cocked his head.

“Like there’s never not one.” Leon pressed down on the switch.

The desk creaked as it shifted to the side on plates, opening to reveal a spiral staircase. As they stared down, lights turned on in a slow sync from top to bottom. Chris met his gaze again before nodding, checking the clip in his gun.

“I bet something good’s down there.” He flashed Leon a grin.

Leon rolled his eyes. “You already promised me steak, Redfield. I don’t think you have anything else worth my while to offer.”

“I dunno about that, Kennedy. I have lots of things I could offer you. A return on what you offered me, perhaps.” Chris smirked. It did things to Leon’s heart. Stupid things.

“Are you fucking flirting with me?” He whispered.

“It depends.” Chris replied, still far too pleased with himself. “Is it working?”

Leon managed to bite back his groan as they started down the stairs. 

  
~*~

The stairs opened to a compact closet full of crates and shelving that cramped them against the wall. A trim of light glowed with a faint red outline between the stacks of boxes, and they looked to see a ratty converse sneaker holding the door open. It looked like it had been automated once, but between the shoe and time, the motor burned out. Chris pressed his fingers to the edge of the door to peer out into the glimpse of hallway. After a moment, he pushed the door back into the wall.

“I have a feeling,” He picked up the shoe, turning it over to see the dried blood on the sole, “this probably belonged to Andy.”

Leon nodded. “He’s smarter than a lot of the things we’ve seen before. Usually they bash things down.” 

Floodlights ran the length of the floor and ceiling outside the closet, but the dim light left much of the space shrouded in shadows. Chris shifted next to Leon to shine his light down the hall. The slumped forms of scientists caught in the tight confines littered the floor. Behind them was a large set of double doors with a thick chain keeping them secured. A security guard rested against it with his chest bared, his ribs torn open and nothing left inside. These corpses looked even fresher than the ones on the floor above.

“Did they send in a new team?” Chris muttered. “How many people were in this building?”

“It’s hard to say, but I don’t think many of them got out.” Leon replied.

“If any.”

Their lights bounced off broken glass of observation windows with bodies strewn through them. One had its entire back open, ribs snapped from the spine as the wendigo sought the softer organs. The kills looked rushed, hurried, like it couldn’t stop itself from eating, but it also felt it had to move. Leon squeezed his gun, straining his hearing for any sounds of the dead as they eased down the hall. The footsteps faltered outside a door at the end of the space like it circled. A makeshift sign hung off the door by a scrap of masking tape, ready to drop to the floor from age.

“Refrigeration unit.” Leon muttered as he turned the handle.

The door opened to reveal dozens of red and white coolers on the shelves, all of them open, most of them cracked on the floor. The footprints went in a circle again. Leon flicked his light over a row of containers to see labels, many peeled away with age while others were covered in blood. A few remained intact. _Liver. Harvested at 3:35 pm. Right Kidney. Harvested at 1:40 pm. Left Kidney. Harvested at 5:02 pm._ Leon frowned as he tipped one of the containers forward. Dried scraps of whatever organ sat in the bottom. 

“I don’t like the idea of them keeping organs.” Chris muttered.

“And I don’t like the idea of _where_ the organs came from.” Leon settled the container back.

The word _harvest_ echoed in his mind and brought back more memories than he was comfortable sifting through. A virus that regrew organs could make a fortune and perhaps even repair Umbrella’s ruined reputation. The idea of it implemented in war torn countries could topple entire regimes, end long running battles. 

But there were others infected with similar viral strains. Sherry for one. Wesker, the bastard. Sherry had been tested countless times since they escaped her father. Despite its mostly dormant state, the G Virus still changed her. And there had been Manuela. No virus came without risks. If they took tainted organs and blood from Katrina and sent them to hospitals, or the black market, the possibility of a sleeping epidemic loomed over them.

“They could have caused outbreaks all over with just her blood alone.” Leon muttered.

Chris paused, turning. “We should count ourselves lucky it looks like this facility went down right as production started.”

“Yeah.” Leon ran his hand through his bangs. “The ledger mentioned some of what the good doctors were working on here. There’s some time gap between the first harvesting and the breakout. I don’t know if any material left, but the doctor calls her a prototype.” He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew he didn’t like the idea of it. A prototype always meant a final product at some point.

Chris shook his head, a scowl firmly in place. “Fucking bastards.”

Ahead of them, the hallway intersected with another one. A sign with the word exam room sat in the middle with two white, numbered arrows pointing in either direction. They started towards two on the right, passing more destroyed rooms. Most of them looked to be smaller labs fit with microscopes and analysis equipment. A few others held specimen pods, thankfully empty and unbroken.

At the end of the hall, they found another shoe lodged between the door and wall. Leon pushed it back on its track, feeling some resistance as he did. He slipped his head in to see a rod jammed into the control panel with the light indicating lock. He pushed the door the rest of the way and stepped inside. A gurney stood at the center with broken leather straps and bits of the inner padding spilled across the floor. An instrument table lay on its side with tools scattered around the gurney. The body of a doctor lay in a ring of his own dried blood, several scalpels driven into his head through his eyes and temples.

The two stepped further into the room, Chris venturing to the walls while Leon moved towards the gurney and doctor. His hand brushed one of the tears to feel deep claw marks underneath. He ran his fingers over them, feeling how deep they cut before twisting near the point of the straps connection to the bed. He knelt by the doctor, lifting his badge. The name Dr. Wallace was printed under his ID bar code. 

“Found the doctor who wanted to terminate Andy.” Leon called as he stood up, pocketing the ID in case. He tilted his head to see a surgical light over the bed. A monitor had been shoved to the floor on the other side, its screen smashed. “I think they ran some tests on one of them in here.”

“Found a tape recorder.” Chris said as he turned around, holding it up. He waited for Leon to step closer before he hit play.

The voice came out garbled, like the tape had been damaged, before it announced the date and time. Static followed and a light shuffle as the machine was placed down. The voice announced a numbered procedure before more static.

**“Kitten? Ki-kitten? Can you hear me?” **Andy’s voice drifted out of the small speaker. Something rustled among the static.****

******“Andy?”** Katrina’s voice sounded distant. ** **

******“Does it...hurt? Your face. Kitten, it’s swollen.”** ** **

******“Doesn’t hurt. Promise. Daddy says it’ll heal. All of it will heal.”** ** **

******“Kat, th-there’s no way. You-you should be dead. He carved everything out of you.”** ** **

******“Shh. I’m okay. I won’t leave you. I promise.** More rustling broke the static, the voices muffled against it. **“I won’t leave you. I love you.”**** **

**“I-I love you, too.”**

****“That’s enough for today. Take him away, we need to prep him for the new agent.”** A different male voice said.**

Scuffling could be heard on the tape as Andy argued with the other voice. He shouted something before a loud crack silenced him. Katrina began to cry. 

**“Take me! Take me, please! I-I can take it! Daddy, don’t hurt him! Please! I can handle the pain more than him! Please don’t take him.”**

Footsteps sounded over her sobs, and Leon spared a glance at Chris. Chris stared at the recorder, his brows furrowed, jaw tense. His hands tightened around his gun. 

**“Oh, Princess.”** The voice dripped malice through the static. **“What pain that wretch feels is a quarter of what I intend to give you. Nurse, now that she’s reformed enough, prep her for the next surgery. And this time? No anesthesia. Just the paralytic. I want her to appreciate her birthday gift.”**

The recording cut off. 

“She called him ‘daddy’. Could someone really do that to their daughter?” Chris mumbled. 

“William Birkin did.” Leon replied. 

Chris sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I’ve been doing this so long and people still surprise me. Check the room for anything useful then we’ll go to the other side.” 

Leon bobbed his head and moved to check over the cabinets. Not much seemed to be of any use to them. He turned around to tell Chris when the faint sound of crying echoed down the hallway. 

“You hear that?” He stepped towards the door. 

“I did, yeah.” Chris pressed against him. “What is that?” 

“It sounds like crying.” Leon stepped into the hall and moved a few paces. The crying grew louder, clearly female. “I think it’s Katrina.” Chris stepped around Leon and started down the hall when he grabbed his shoulder. Leon pressed his lips thin, brows dipped. “Hang on. That ledger said Andy can mimic voices.” Leon began to ease down the hall. “Move quietly.” 

Chris shifted his grip on his gun, tightening his jaw. They moved slowly down the hall, guns primed. He glanced over his shoulder at Leon. 

“What if he’s using her as bait?” Chris whispered while the cries turned into full blown sobs filled with pain. 

Leon took a deep breath through his nose. “Then we run and gun with her if we can.” 

The sound of her sobs rang through his head and twisted around his heart. He wanted to believe they weren’t walking into a trap, but when the evidence contradicted itself, he needed to keep his head clear. Too many times this same situation turned bad for him. 

“What if we’re wrong?” Chris asked as they crept closer to the other room. 

Leon placed his hand on Chris’s shoulder, moving to flank the other side of the door. The sound echoed louder, gasping at the end like she struggled for breath. 

“We can’t afford to be right, either.” Leon muttered. 

A weighted silence fell between them as they reached the door. Leon holstered Mathilda and opted for Chris’s second shotgun, pumping it as silently as he could manage. At least if they met the trap, it would be with something that might knock it back. 

“You know.” Chris started with a humorless chuckle. “This is the part where we start finding what Umbrella scientists used to keep control of these things. Like acid rounds.” 

“I don’t think they had time to develop proper deterrents for what they intended to make here.” Leon admitted. 

And honestly, considering Andy stood up to a couple shots already, and may have been loose for five years, the rail gun might have been the only option. The blood ran cold in his veins at the idea of a Nemesis situation. He never saw the damn thing himself, but he had seen some of its aftermath as well as heard secondhand stories from Carlos. This thing had to have a weakness. Only fools built monsters without some way to take them down. 

Chris eased the door open with his hand, slipping the muzzle of his gun and his head inside. The remains of the door shifted away from him on its track, barely held in place with dangling wires. Scratches covered the floor, and the smell of old blood permeated the entire room. A gurney stood in the middle of the room like the other though this one had tubes running along the top and bottom of the bed. Large needles jutted out between the bedding and frame, some broken. The surgery lamp lay on the floor in pieces, its glass glittering in their flashlight beams. 

Chris stepped fully inside, twisting at the waist to shine light around the room. He motioned Leon in, and they stepped inside to see more damage along the walls. Machine parts sat scattered across the floor and entire panels looked to have been peeled back like tin lids. Jumbles of wire hung in clumps against one wall, and as Leon lifted his light to it, he noticed a glint of metal beyond the tangled mess. He nodded at Chris and pushed them aside. A gap in the paneling opened to a space just wide enough for Chris to squeeze through. Cool, fresh air breezed past Leon. 

“This might be one of the ways he got out.” Leon shifted into the crevice, holding his shotgun sideways as he felt the smooth stone give way to rougher rock. 

He pulled himself farther in, trying to shine the light down the tunnel when he saw a shape farther down. It was bent in on itself. Leon weighed their options and took a breath. If it was a trap, the tight space of the walls would allow for an almost bottleneck to keep Andy back long enough for them to run the other way. Not that it would do them much good if the exit they found before couldn’t be broken with a good shotgun blast. 

“Katrina?” He called out. “That you?” 

“Leon?” The form lifted its head. “Are you and Chris okay?” 

"Yeah. Are you?” He could feel Chris’s body heat near his left hand. 

“I...I don’t know. My leg still hurts, Leon.” The shape moved again. It looked small, but Andy had changed form once. 

“We’re coming, Katrina. It’s gonna be okay.” Leon offered. 

The tunnel opened up after another few feet, giving him room to straighten. The breeze strengthened, bringing with it more fresh air and slivers of moonlight in the shape of a cave exit. 

“Leon?” The form stood, and they could see her silhouette against the light spilling into the cave, the edges of her torn dress flapping in the breeze. 

“Is Andy with you, Kat?” Chris called. He lifted his flashlight. 

Katrina turned away from the light, holding up a hand to cover her eyes. “No, but he’ll be back.” 

Leon breathed a sigh of relief, and they started to jog ahead. Their footsteps echoed against the rock, and the light bounced back and forth as they moved. It caught on Katrina again, and they saw her leaning with her right side against the cavern entrance. Her body trembled, and she pressed her forehead to the stone. 

It looked wrong, Leon realized as they closed the distance. She looked ashen, and all he could think about was every person who turned in front of him. The smell of damp earth and blood drifted to his nose as they slowed a few feet from her. 

“How did you get away from him?” Leon asked, noticing Chris pause near him. 

She shifted and looked at them, eyes almost vacant. She sucked in a shallow breath and pushed herself from the wall with her left hand. It took considerable effort before she managed to straighten, her body determined to crumple in on itself. Dark red stained her dress, and a mangled hunk of meat pulsed as bits of tissue knitted itself back together where her right arm had been. Leon stared in shock and felt Chris grip his shoulder. 

“I...” She shifted her arm away from their sight, ducking her head with what may have been shame. “I gave him a distraction.” 

“You tore off your arm?” Leon whispered as he reached for her. She gripped her ruined shoulder, shuffling away from him. “Katrina...” 

“It was him catching it, twisting and pulling. It wasn’t the first time.” She whispered and gestured. The humerus jutted out from a glob of muscle. Bits of tendon eased out of the mass, slowly stretching out. “It’s already healing. He just gets...single minded sometimes.” A tiny smile played across her lips before she looked up to them both. Her eyes remained vacant, distant. “When he won’t hear my voice, when he won’t let me go. Sometimes I have to give him something else to focus on.” 

Leon clenched his fists, and he could feel Chris tense at his side. 

“How long have you been running away from him?” Chris stepped closer, looking at her face. 

Katrina swallowed, the sound loud. She shook her head and ran her hand through her bangs, pushing them back. A silver scar ran from the corner of her eyebrow to her temple, hidden by her hair before. 

“It’s been so many times, I can’t remember.” She sucked in a shuddering breath, wincing as a bit of bone formed. “Can we-can we go?” 

Chris nodded while Leon watched her arm again. Watched as it reformed bone, blood vessels, entire muscle groups. It dug up old memories. Confused and angry memories. 

“Why hasn’t he killed you?” Leon said, catching her undamaged arm. He drug her back to face him. “Why have you been here for five years?” 

Katrina froze. “Years? No. Daddy said it was my birthday last week. It’s not even been a year.” She breathed. 

Leon felt his stomach sour. So she never recovered from having her heart removed. The idea sickened him. She was stuck in a nightmare loop. 

“You and your boyfriend disappeared six years ago in September. How have you been surviving?” 

“I-I don’t know.” She squirmed in his grip, tears coming to her eyes. “Six?” Her face pinched in disbelief then confusion. 

“Leon.” Chris said gently, settling his hand on Leon’s shoulder. “Not right now.” 

Leon looked to see Chris give a single shake of his head. It didn’t matter how long she and Andy had been out here. They needed to put some distance between them and the mine. He needed to contact Hunnigan and report. Maybe she found something about Dr. Ezekiel. His hand eased from Katrina’s arm, and she pressed against Chris with a whimper. 

“I’m sorry. You’ve been through a lot. We can talk about it when we have you safe.” Leon sighed. 

Katrina nodded at him while Chris hovered his hand over her damaged shoulder, fearful in his motions. 

“It won’t hurt if you touch me. It just hurts when the nerves reform exposed.” She closed her eyes. “Most of my shoulder’s numb.” 

Chris settled his hand gently against her. They moved forward, out of the mouth of the cave into an overgrown lot. A guard shack sat abandoned a few dozen feet from them with a security gate still in place. The gate looked to be about twelve feet high and topped with barbed wire. Bits of fabric flickered in the breeze between the loops. Their boots scuffled across broken asphalt towards the shack. 

The window was broken in with beads of glass littering the inside. It looked cramped with a wide L shaped desk taking up one corner. A small television sat by the window with a box beside it. It reminded Leon of a VCR and may have been a CCTV setup. He pulled away from the window and glanced around the fence. None of them had the appropriate clothes to scale barbed wire. 

“Hey, Boy Scout.” He stepped towards the entrance of the lot. “Swiss army knife?” 

“The snips in that thing won’t cut through fence.” Chris shook his head. “And I left my bolt cutters at home.” 

“Yeah, and I have some back in my jeep.” Leon sighed. “Fuck this.” He gripped the fence and gave it a shake. It rattled in its track. 

“Maybe there’s another way out.” Chris offered. “Or we could find something to knock it enough off track we can slip through. Look for a pipe or something.” 

They started to the right of the guard building, following the overgrown grass. As they moved, Leon felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out to see a message from Hunnigan. He pressed her contact, lifting the phone to his ear. It connected a few seconds later. 

“Leon, I’ve been trying to reach you. Are you and Chris alright?” 

“We’re fine for the most part.” He replied as he toed a tuft of grass. “We managed to get out of the mine. Turned out it was an Umbrella facility. Figures, right?” 

“With our luck and how all encroaching their reach can be.” Hunnigan sighed. 

“We found Katrina, too. She’s...Did you find anything on Dr. Ezekiel?” He hung back from Chris and Katrina, eyeing her arm. 

“Nothing. Although. Am I on speaker, Leon?” She asked, voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. 

“No. Why?” He hung back a little more as Chris inspected a section of fence where much of the grass looked tamped down. 

“I found a Dr. Sparrow.” 

His eyes drifted to Katrina as she stood beside Chris. Chris shifted onto his knees at her feet, moving aside a few rocks. The process on her arm looked to be further with most of her forearm remade. 

“Yeah?” Leon muttered. “Nothing good?” 

“I can’t tell. It’s from the hospital logs. It says he was a trauma surgeon in the emergency room with a heart specialty.” The sound of typing echoed over the line. “He had a wife and two children, and they lived just outside the city. I looked a little deeper, and Dr. Sparrow transferred to a hospital in Detroit a few days before the Raccoon incident. With one child. Katrina Sparrow.” 

It wasn’t too far fetched to think an Umbrella paid doctor would change his name to resume his research. Hell, he expected the actual innocent doctors to change their names to avoid guilt by association with Umbrella’s shady past. What very, very few innocent ones there had been. 

“Does it say what happened to his wife and other kid?” Leon whispered. 

Hunnigan quieted as the keys clattered again. “There was an article about a car accident in ‘96. His wife was taking the children to visit a relative in the city when a truck smashed into their car. The only one to survive was the daughter, Katrina. She was eight. I have a photo of the doctor.” 

His device pinged, and Leon stared into the same face from the wedding photo. Katrina stood beside her father, holding hands with a boy. The boy looked to only be a few years older than her, a miniature version of his father. 

Leon cursed softly under his breath. “I think Dr. Ezekiel’s Dr. Sparrow and he’s used Katrina and her boyfriend as test subjects for a new virus.” He looked back to see Katrina pointing at something, and Chris pulling it out. “I found some papers that talk about a W Virus, and some project called Doll. We also think that whoever worked in the lab here, was trying to mass produce organs. They were harvesting Katrina.” 

“Harvesting organs?” Hunnigan muttered. 

“Yeah. Like farming from her? I don’t know. We found a closet full of vital internal organs. The kind you die without. And, Hunnigan, her fucking right arm’s growing back as I’m talking.” 

“That’s...unusual. Do you think they were planning to sell the tainted tissues on the black market?” 

“I don’t know. I think whatever they did to her boyfriend fucked their plans.” 

“Leon! We have a way out!” Chris called. 

“Check and see about any incidents that involve trafficked human material and anything from this area. I don’t know if anything ever made it out of the lab or not. We’re gonna try to head back, avoid this fucker in the woods. Where’s our team?” He headed towards Katrina and Chris. 

“They’re about an hour and a half out.” Hunnigan replied. “I’m told that there’s a local branch with a helicopter on standby as well if we need it.” 

“Alright. Get in contact with the ground team and tell them that this thing can mimic voices. Tell them if they hear me or Chris, but don’t see us, to ask for a code word.” He stopped beside Chris to see a hole under the fence. A dirty ballet flat sat to the side. 

“And what’s the code word?” Hunnigan asked. 

Leon considered it before he mumbled into the line. “Rhododendron.” 

“Copy. Stay safe, Leon.” 

The line cut, and he slipped the phone back into his pocket. He glanced at the hole. Small enough to fit Katrina. 

“Do you remember anything before you met us earlier tonight?” He asked as he tried to keep his tone level. He wanted to ask about her father. He wanted to ask a lot of things. 

She wet her lips and nodded. “I remember waking up inside that room Andy pulled me into. He was angry about something. But he wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to himself. I knew he was dangerous like that. I don’t remember why, just that I felt like when he was like that, he could hurt me. That he _would_ hurt me. So I slipped out through the crack in the wall and ran.” She pointed to the hole. “I found where some animal dug under and made it bigger. I heard Andy screaming behind me, but it didn’t really sound like him. He never calls me Katrina. So I ran and hid. He’s slow in the light.” 

“So I did see you in the woods by the lake.” Leon slipped his hand into his back pocket and removed the piece of cloth. It matched her dress. 

Katrina nodded. “I saw you both, and I thought about running to you. But.” She gestured to herself. “I already cost a nice ranger his life.” She pressed her good hand to her face. “He didn’t even see Andy coming. I didn’t even see him! He was just there! And the blood! And...and. God.” 

Leon pulled her to his chest, pressing his hand to the back of her head and letting her sob against him. Her undamaged arm wrapped around his waist, gripping the fabric of his shirt in her fist. Little tremors ran along her back. 

“He was a good person.” She whispered. “He was.” 

“I’m sure he was.” Leon said as he carded his fingers through her hair. A lot of people Umbrella turned into monsters had been good people once. Buddy. Curtis. 

The trembling eased after a moment, but he kept her there as he glanced at Chris. He nodded towards the hole, and Chris started to dig it a little deeper. The soft dirt broke away, widening slowly. It would be easier with a tool, but this was already a stroke of luck on their part. After a moment, Chris shifted onto his knees and grabbed the bottom of the fence. Unlike the part towards the guard station, this area lacked any deep anchor beyond surface dirt. He grunted softly as he jerked against the fence, lifting it into an arc. 

“Katrina first.” Chris said as he tilted his head. “Keep your healing arm away from the ground. Pretty sure an infection would heal, but I’d rather not see.” 

Katrina eased away from Leon and crouched. She held her arm by the freshly healed elbow and ducked under the fencing. The jagged ends caught on her dress, but she managed to pop free. 

“I’ll go under and hold it on the other side for you.” Leon told Chris as he eased under. He flashed him a grin. “Bet you regret those speed bumps you call shoulders right now, huh, Redfield?” 

“Bite me, Kennedy.” Chris snorted as he lifted the fence a little higher. 

“Yeah, maybe later.” Leon squirmed into the hole and caught himself on the ends. He felt them poke through his shirt and against his skin. It took a little more effort, a lot of him clawing at the grass on the other side, before he managed to worm free. 

He shifted to grab the fencing, Katrina taking the other side, though with just one hand, she had less of a strong grip. It sagged a bit, but offered Chris more room to finagle his way under. As he slipped halfway through, the low growl they heard at the cabin echoed in the woods around them. 

“Fuck, not right now.” Chris muttered as he dug at the grass, kicking his feet as the fence tore his shirt and scraped down his back. “Doesn’t he get bored?” 

“No.” Katrina turned to look to their left. “He just gets hungry.” 

“Come on, Redfield.” Leon grabbed Chris’s arm, yanking. “You could skip arm day like once!” 

“And lose my boulder punching rep? Hell no.” Chris gave a hard kick and slipped free, reaching back to drag his bag under. 

“Ha. I knew that wasn’t just a rumor.” Leon turned his light to the treeline. 

“Carlos exaggerates. I just don’t deny it anymore.” Chris pumped the shotgun and looked at Katrina. He followed her sight. “Can you...can you see him?” 

She shook her head, eyes wide. “It’s more like I can sense him. And I think he does the same for me.” She bolted towards the right. “Run and don’t stop! He’s farther off! If we can keep ahead of him, we can maybe gain distance. That’s the only thing that will keep us safe!” 

Leon didn’t feel that running into the dark woods, again, was a good idea, but he also knew waiting for that monster to show up was an even worse one. He fell in step behind Katrina, trusting maybe she would keep them from falling down another shaft. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome, updates Wednesdays~!
> 
> Well, at least the anxiety is starting to fade away with each chapter. I should probably start some work on those AU's I'd been plotting. Something about being high school teachers or an AU of rookie cop Leon.
> 
> I'm not sure why I decided to write Leon as lonely as I do, but it's the impression I get from him. Guy's a risk taker, and we don't hear about his network like say Chris or Claire.
> 
> We get some medical stuff! Yay! What's in here is like a really low key version of what happens to Katrina in her story. Yeah. The organ harvesting thing's her fate no matter what. Poor kid. It's why things happen to her in her story, is all for the removal and regrowth of her guts.
> 
> I shoulda got a beta reader. Next time. Next time.


	6. Chapter Six

They ran through the woods along an unkempt trail with the sound of footsteps crashing behind them. Branches caught at their clothes and uncovered roots snagged at their feet. Katrina moved ahead of them without pause, glancing back every few feet. Leon could feel the brambles through the thickness of his jeans, and he wondered how she managed with bare feet and legs. It had to be pure adrenaline.

The path opened ahead of them in brief spaces, like the woods had been cleared in sections. A sharp scream tore through the night behind them, and Leon pumped his legs harder. His side throbbed with every breath, and his vision started to turn foggy. Chris pressed against his side, gripping his elbow.

“Don’t stop.” He said breathless in his ear. “Keep moving!”

Leon forced a nod as the path tilted uphill. Katrina stopped, and they stared down an embankment that led into a meadow. A squat, brick building with a single thin window sat in the middle of it, its door open, creaking with the wind.

“Something’s in there.” Katrina muttered before she started down the hill at a sprint. “I remember it.”

Leon glanced at Chris. One door defense worked for small masses of regular zombies, bottle necking them, but for the more advanced B.O.W.s and hordes it tended to be a death sentence. The sound of a tree snapping a few feet away spurred them down the hill. It had to be the best alternative.

Katrina stopped at the door while Chris flicked his light around the room. It was empty save for a desk that sat in front of the window. Katrina pushed past Chris and knelt on the floor, running her fingers along the stone.

“What are you looking for?” Chris asked as he bent next to her.

“There’s something here. Shut the door!” She shifted to look at them both, brows and mouth twisted with confusion.

Leon pulled the door closed and bolted the latches. It was made of a thicker wood than he expected, but it wouldn’t hold against Andy. He turned around to shine his light across the floor, catching on a slim groove. Katrina made a quiet noise of triumph and wormed her fingers under the tile. It peeled back a few centimeters, enough for Chris to slip his hands underneath it. He pushed it back to reveal a rusted ladder leading into darkness.

“What the hell.” Chris muttered.

“Secret tunnel.” Leon shrugged as he straightened. “Leave it to Umbrella.”

“I think...I think it’s a way away from him.” Katrina said. “I’ve...been down there before. I think.”

Leon looked at Katrina to see most of her arm had formed to the wrist. One of them needed to carry her down. He shouldered the shotgun and knelt beside her.

“On my back. You’re gonna have to hold tight with just the one arm.”

Katrina looked at him, opening her mouth, when a loud slam rocked the door. She wrapped her good arm around his neck, then her legs around his waist in a vise. Her fingers caught in the front of his shirt, twisting in a tight grip. The door quaked in its frame as Andy pounded against it, screaming in a garbled rage.

“Hang on, kid.” Leon said as he grabbed the first rung of the ladder. He tucked his flashlight in his pocket.

“It’s going to get dark fast.” Chris muttered as soon as Leon and Katrina moved far enough down the ladder to make space for him.

The ladder squeaked as Chris settled on the first rung, easing himself down enough to pull the hatch back in place. The sound of the door splintering was barely muffled as the panel closed with a clap. Katrina squeezed tighter around Leon, putting his ribs through hell. At least she was light.

“It’s okay.” He whispered as he felt her shudder against him. “It’s okay.”

The door gave way, and they heard heavy footfalls stomp across the panel. Soon the sound of claws scraping along the stone echoed into the tunnel around them, almost deafening. Leon began to take each rung faster, catching the next enough to keep himself steady.

<i> _“Kaaatrinaaa!”_ </i> The voice thundered as the hatch tore open. Violet eyes shone down on them as the hatch clattered somewhere else in the room with a sharp, metallic twang. <i> _“Give her back!”_ </i>

Leon felt the ladder shift as Andy pushed himself into the shaft, swinging for Chris’s head. He let out a low snarl, guttural and deep. The sound of a flare popping snapped below them as the brilliant sheen of red lit up the shaft. Leon looked up to see Andy’s expression twist in understanding before the flare slammed into his face. He reared back, shrieking and thrashing.

“Thank you, divine inter-fucking-vention!” Chris yelled. “Faster, Leon! Don’t waste that goddamn deus ex machina!”

“We gotta get you new hobbies.” Leon shifted, bracing his boots on the rungs. “Hold on, Kat!” He settled his hands on the sides of the ladder and slid.

Katrina bit back a yelp, burying her face in his neck as they rushed towards the bottom. Leon felt his boots hit hard, making him stumble from the added weight, but he caught himself on the wall. He kept Katrina from dismounting as he turned his light towards Chris, giving him the all clear. The red of the flare blotted out every few seconds followed by more angry screams as Andy struggled with it.

“Don’t wait on me, just go!” Chris yelled as he hit the bottom, getting his gun back in his hands.

The next shriek turned into one of raging fury as Leon twisted around, charging towards an opening in the wall. The sound of the ladder shaking followed behind them, and they all knew the monster was closing in. Leon jumped the lip of the door and spun around to find it was metal. Chris blazed past him before he skidded in a turn. The flash of violet flickered in the dark as they pressed against the door, shoving it in place just as Andy’s weight slammed against it. His claws scrabbled at the handle. Chris moved Leon to the side to grab the wheel, twisting the heavy locks into place while Andy continued to pound against it.

The door held and Chris shifted away from it. “Next time you want a vacation, Kennedy?” He waited until Leon looked up, both of them panting. “Stay the fuck home.”

Leon shook his head. “Yeah, no shit.”

~*~

The bulkhead held as Andy threw himself against the metal repeatedly. After a few more tries, they heard him pacing and whispering to himself. Chris attempted to listen, in hopes to understand, but as soon as he stepped closer to the door, the wild banging restarted. He moved away and looked down the long stretch of darkened hallway behind them. The room was empty, what lights they saw on the walls broken.

“That flare was lucky. Any idea where it came from?” Chris readjusted his bag.

“No clue. Knowing my luck, it was probably Ada.” Leon sighed. “Regenerative virus with one mean ass bodyguard? She’d be here with damn bells.”

Chris huffed and Leon could feel the animosity wafting off him. Even though it wasn’t the real Ada who did his men in, it didn’t cull the rage. And honestly, if the opportunity presented itself, Ada would have killed any one of Chris’s team without batting an eye. Seemed Leon was the only one to avoid her chopping block. For now.

“We should get going.” Leon muttered and jerked his head down the hall.

Katrina pushed herself to her feet beside him, lifting her arm. The last bits of flesh sealed over the tips of her fingers. Leon hid a shiver as a roll of his arm in its socket. Despite all the times he’d seen similar things, it still unnerved him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, the sound of Andy’s claws lessened. Another broken whisper started.

“Please, don’t leave me, Kitten.”

It sounded genuine, pained. Maybe some part of him was still sentient inside, but that was a risk with a very minuscule reward. Leon turned on his heel to follow the other two.

“Hunnigan said reinforcements would be here in about an hour.” He said, glancing at his watch.

“Good.” Chris nodded. “We just need to find a way out of here.”

“There’s a left ahead.” Katrina mumbled. Leon felt her hand catch in the back of his shirt as she pressed to his side. “Take it. There’s...there’s stairs or a ladder out.”

Leon glanced at her, noticing how she worried her lip between her teeth. Her brows knitted, her eyes focused forward in deep concentration.

“How do you know that?” He asked gently.

Her eyes lifted to his, brows furrowing in frustration. The fingers caught in his shirt tightened, catching skin. Leon stopped to face her. Katrina still gripped his shirt but ran her free hand through her bangs. He could see the scar again.

“I’m...I’m not sure.” She sounded angry. “I think...I think I remember here. I think I’ve been here.” Her fingers relaxed as she took a step forward. “A long time ago.” She brushed her newly healed fingers along the concrete wall. After a moment, the frustration faded, replaced with confusion. “You said we’ve been missing for years?”

“Six come September.” Leon nodded once.

Her fingers traced over some cracks in the wall then her hand fell away. “I don’t remember that.” She started to walk down the hall, both men trailing after her. “The last thing I remember before tonight was...my birthday.” Her voice caught in her throat, and Leon bit the inside of his cheek.

“There’s a lot of questions, Katrina.” He began. “How you two survived this long without starting an infection. Why Umbrella hasn’t scrubbed this lab. What those doctors did to you. And to Andy.”

Katrina’s shoulders hitched though her steps never faltered. If anything, she picked up pace.

“The doctor who did this.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Was my father. That I’ll always remember.”

She stopped at the edge of the hall, turning to look at the both of them, shoulders squared. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, but refused to fall. Her lips set in a thin line, and she lifted a hand to point beyond a corner. Leon skirted around her to see a ladder built against the stone wall leading up to an open hatch. Moonlight spilled in from the gap, glinting off the flare gun on the floor. Leon knelt to examine the gun.

“You were right.” Chris said.

“I see things.” Katrina shrugged unhappily, staring up at the exit like it annoyed her. “Incomplete things that feel like memories, but they’re broken into tiny pieces.” She shifted towards the ladder. “If I’ve been here for so long maybe I’ve done this before. My head’s so jumbled, so confused. Maybe something broke and I reset.”

Leon held his breath. It wasn’t unheard of medically for a traumatic injury to cause confusion or even amnesia. But he had the ledger to prove otherwise. Her own father performed experiments on her, and for years she suffered the consequence. The worst was the possibility this moment of lucidity could only last a short time. She could forget again, or remember everything and break down. Or, even worse, she could fabricate memories entirely. The brain, healthy or sick, was its own unreliable enemy at times.

He sat the empty flare gun back on the ground and started up the ladder. He heard Katrina follow him and listened for Chris.

“My main question is why hasn’t Andy rampaged yet? Mauled campers, mutilated animals.” Leon wondered aloud. What did keep them there? Was it something man made in their viruses? Arias was proof something could be done.

“Katrina.” Chris started. “You tore off your own arm to distract Andy. Did you ever do that before?”

Katrina stayed quiet for a moment. “A lot.” She said. “I also remember times when he wasn’t himself. When one piece wasn’t enough.”

Leon eased out of the hole, gripping tufts of grass to haul himself out. He turned around to hold his hand out to her. The words played in his head. When one piece wasn’t enough. That she was his.

“He’s completely devoured you.” Leon muttered as he gripped her hands and pulled her onto the grass beside him. “He’s done to you what he did to the scientists, the guards, everyone in the labs. But you regenerate.” The cooling summer breeze brought a chill to his skin. “He’s drawn to you. That’s why he’s not left a trail.”

Chris shoved the bag over the lip of the hatch, pushing himself free. His face was drawn tight in disgust, his lip curled.

“That’s sick.” He shook his head.

Katrina shifted away from them, hugging herself, and Leon watched the tremors rack her small form. What kind of hell was this? Turned into some organ farm by her own father, hunted down by someone she loved. Torn to pieces and eaten just to reform and run again. At least she had the blessing of incomplete memories, maybe all the pain would stay lost. But this was no way to live.

“He wasn’t always a monster.” Katrina whispered. “I loved him.” She lifted a hand, pointing to a dirt path among the trees. “There was the first place.”

Leon turned towards it and noticed traffic signs. It was a service road.

“Maybe it’ll lead us back to the cabin.” He gestured to Chris then addressed Katrina. “Was this where you ran when you escaped?”

“Yeah.” She held her left wrist, fingers brushing the thin scar there, and started toward the road. “I’m fuzzy, but I remember Andy came for me. He was...covered in so much blood. And his eyes were wrong. But he called me kitten.” A tiny smile ghosted over her lips. “And we ran. We ran and ran, but I knew something was wrong with him.” The smile faded as her voice broke. “He kept whispering to something. Kept telling it no and not to touch me. It wasn’t until we got here he told me to run.” Katrina turned to look at Leon as her feet touched the first inch of packed dirt. “I barely made it a few feet when he...” Her hand went to her neck, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

Leon shifted closer, wrapping his arm around her. Chris fell in step to her other side, moving his arm over Leon’s as they walked. The soft sound of Katrina’s sobs drifted between them.

“I’m sorry.” Chris whispered, his eyes meeting Leon’s over his head. “I’m so sorry this happened to either of you.”

Anger boiled in Chris’s eyes. The silent rage Leon felt himself.

“We’re gonna do everything we can to help you.” Leon said.

A sharp pain burned at the back of his neck, like an overgrown mosquito took a deep gouge out of him. He felt woozy, vision blurry as he touched his neck.

“The fuck.” He mumbled as his fingers caught on a thin needle. He yanked it out when Chris swayed at his side. “Shit. Tr-tranq dart.” He staggered, shoving Katrina forward. “Run, Kat!”

The ground rushed to meet him, and he landed hard on his side. Chris took a shaky step back, lifting his shotgun. Another dart appeared on his upper chest before he crashed to his knees. Leon’s vision swam in a blur of monochrome, the edges darkening every second. He felt Katrina’s small hands on his shoulders, trying to drag him. Lifting his own arm felt like swimming in honey as he struggled to push her off.

“Run, kid.” It felt like his tongue swelled in his mouth.

“No!” Katrina grabbed for him again. Then she let go, and Leon’s vision failed him.

The last thing he heard before unconsciousness was Katrina yelp of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcome, I update on Wednesdays.
> 
> Little shorter than the other chapters. (I know I combined two chapters last week, but it wouldn't work this time.) Sorry about that. We're going to see the third OC in the next chapter. I think the only thing I don't downplay in this fic from Katrina's story is the parental abuse. So, be aware there's going to be a little more of that in the next chapter.


	7. Chapter Seven

The ache in Leon’s side eased comparatively to the pounding in his skull. It felt like someone shoved an immersion blender up his nose on the highest setting. He felt sick, and, as he struggled to open his eyes, wondered if he drank too much. The world swam in globs of dark color, and he pitched forward only to feel coarse rope rub against his wrists. Realization dawned on him as he pulled at his hands, feeling the bonds scrape his skin. This wasn’t a bender.

“Fuck.” He breathed, kicking his legs to find them tied, too.

“Glad you’re awake, Kennedy.” Chris muttered across from him.

Leon lifted his head and struggled to focus on Chris, but the ache of pressure behind his eyes made it hard. The sluggishness of the tranquilizer seemed slow to wear off and left him foggy, but his vision started to clear. He looked around to see a small, dark room with blank walls and no furniture. There was a door a few feet behind Chris with a thin bar of light coming from underneath it.

“The hell are we?” Leon groaned, shaking his head to clear the last of the fog. “Where’s Katrina?”

“In there.” Chris jerked his chin towards the door. “Heard her voice when I came to. I’m not sure where we are.”

Leon listened for a moment before scooting across the floor towards Chris. He glanced at the door when a shadow blocked out the light. It passed, and he leaned into Chris.

“You still have your knife?”

Chris shook his head. “He grabbed it. What about the one in your boot?”

Leon wiggled his ankle until he felt the sheath. “Yeah, I can still feel it, turn around.”

Chris shifted on the hardwood floor, his jeans scuffled against the planks. He scooted back a little more to line himself up with Leon’s feet and slid the hem of his jean leg up until he could grasp the tip of the knife handle. All the while, Leon watched the door. Muffled conversation drifted through the wood, too low for him to understand.

“You know, I expected this visit to go differently, Kennedy.” Chris glanced over his shoulder. “Talk you off a ledge, take in the wilderness, maybe drink some moonshine. I’m starting to wonder if you’re worth the trouble.”

“What? And miss a new mission? Please, that other shit will make you lazy.” Leon snorted. “Plus, the sex wasn’t bad.”

Chris scoffed. “I’ll remember that.” He pulled the blade out. “Turn around, and keep your fingers away from the sharp part, Kennedy. We have the potential world to save.”

“You keep the sharp part away from my fingers, Redfield.” Leon muttered as he twisted around, spreading his hands as far as the rope allowed.

The knife pressed against the rope and moved back and forth in a slow but clean swipe. Chris shifted for a better angle, and Leon listened for any sound in the other room. The floorboards creaked, and he could hear footsteps moving towards the door.

“No pressure, Chris, but hurry.” Leon whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can, Leon.” Chris muttered as the first line of rope gave way. “I don’t have the best grip.” The next piece broke. “There.”

Chris pushed the handle of the knife into Leon’s palm, and Leon turned around to cut Chris’s hands loose. The footsteps started again, the shadow under the door blotting out the light. Leon cursed quietly to himself as he cut the ropes at his legs. The knob twisted while he moved to cut Chris’s ankles free. The door swung open in a wash of harsh, white light. The brightness burned Leon’s eyes, forcing him to squint as a slim silhouette stepped into the doorway.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” A male voice drawled.

The spots in his vision cleared enough for Leon to see Dr. Ezekiel standing in the doorway holding a struggling Katrina with a knife, Chris’s knife, pressed against her throat. The doctor wore a navy sweater with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His honey and gray hair slicked back, matching beard neatly trimmed. His green eyes flicked between them before he met Leon’s eye, his lips peeling back in a cruel smile. He lifted his elbow to tap the switch by the door to bathe the room in more bright light.

“Let her go.” Leon said, gripping his own knife tighter.

“I’d rather not.” Dr. Ezekiel replied. “She’s a rather fine bargaining chip.” Katrina thrashed in his hold, stilling when the knife pressed closer to her skin. “I believe I have some introductions to make. The two of you have met my darling princess, but as it is, I’m certain you have only ascertained my name through old documentations. Which is rude on my part.” He gestured with the knife tip before putting it back to his daughter’s neck. “I am Dr. Ezra Ezekiel Sparrow. And I have enjoyed your escapades through my labs with my experiments, but the time grows late.”

The doctor shifted a little in the door frame while Leon watched him. He could feel Chris at his side, the adrenaline racing through both their veins. They had one weapon between them, but likely more combat experience. Sure, Wesker was a “doctor” and a trained fighter, but looking at the wiry frame of Ezekiel - Ezra didn’t express “confident fighter” to Leon. And then there was the fact Katrina was a hostage, but she would heal. That raised ethics, temporary pain for freedom. There were also two of them, but Andy was still outside somewhere. Not to mention any other potential bio threats the doctor may have brought with him. He looked too well put together to have been surviving in the woods alone.

Ezra held Katrina tight to his chest with one hand pressed over her shoulder. The arm holding the knife boxed in her right arm while the left gripped her father’s sleeve. She looked at Leon then Chris. The look of fear shifted, and Leon watched her set her jaw. The grip on her father’s sleeve tightened, inching higher up his arm.

“Sorry.” She smiled weakly at them before grabbing her father’s knife hand and jamming the blade into her neck. She gagged, blood running down her throat in gushes.

“What the-” Ezra snarled and jerked the knife out of Katrina with an arc of red. “How dare you, you little-” He looked up to see Chris charging towards him.

Katrina spasmed, gagging on her blood as it bubbled out of the wound, her hand slipping as she tried to hold it. Ezra let out a frustrated grunt and shoved her at Chris. He caught her while she shuddered against him, coughing blood before stilling in his arms. She let out a rattle of breath, her body struggling.

“The least she could do is choke quietly.” Ezra muttered.

“She’s your daughter!” Chris snapped. “How can you do this to her?”

The doctor looked at Chris like he lost his mind, wiping at the blood soaking into his sweater.

“Oh, she’ll be fine in roughly ten minutes. Twenty at the most.” Ezra waved the knife. “She’s my daughter only by biology. What you’re holding in your arms right now is research material.”

Chris gripped Katrina tighter, moving back towards Leon. All the while, Leon kept his eyes trained on Ezra. The anger burned in his veins, but he needed to think. The doctor was open, too open. Overly confident, or was there a trap?

“What did you do to them?” Leon hazarded an evil monologue might buy time. Hunnigan’s team would be able to pick up on any signal from his communicator, even if it had been deactivated.

Ezra snorted. “Really? Asking me to ramble to give yourself time for your cavalry? Come now, Agent Kennedy, you’re smarter than that.”

“You did something no other Umbrella scientist has. You made her invincible. Don’t you want to brag about it?” Leon took Katrina from Chris, shifting the knife through his belt loop to cradle her.

Ezra rested his left hand on the waistband of his khakis, eyeing Leon with pinched brows.

“Bragging is all any of those fools ever did. Brag or develop unhealthy obsessions to their experiments. Birkin was one of the worst examples.” Ezra lifted the knife to examine it. “This isn’t me wishing to brag, Agent Kennedy, do not mistake it. This is a man who has discovered something. Something you can appreciate in your own right.” Ezra smiled. “You should be made aware of the ease of illegally acquired samples of one Sherry Birkin on the black market.”

Leon saw red and Katrina began to loosen from his grip. Chris grabbed his arm, shaking his head in one quick motion. He nodded to the floorboards, a low hiss drifting up through gaps in the planks. Chris relaxed his hand on Leon’s arm.

“You’ve been here the whole time with them, haven’t you?” Chris asked.

Ezra’s head tilted to the side, and he shrugged. “I wouldn’t say the entire time. I do need to resupply. Update buyers, prep an operating room, make sure that savage my daughter called a boyfriend is sated. He’s ruined far too many shipments, and it’s difficult to make her organs viable for extended periods. Not to mention the last team he tore apart when I tried to reclaim the facility.” His nose wrinkled in disgust.

So the corpses had been fresh, and they did manage to sell Katrina’s tissues. The threat of another Raccoon incident weighed heavy on Leon. He needed to contact Hunnigan. They needed to stop this. If her parts had been sent throughout the world, the chances of a global pandemic were astronomical.

“You’ve sent out her organs?” Leon muttered.

“And her blood. And eggs. Anything harvestable people may need these days.” He gestured with the knife, his other hand still on his waistband. “The girl is a veritable gold mine. Wretched waste of semen failed at everything else.”

Leon lost it and charged for Ezra, feeling Chris grab for his back. The doctor’s expression barely shifted as he pulled the knife free.

Leon screamed. “Do you have any idea how many people you’ve infected?”

The floor broke in a loud crack of splintering wood, a hunter beta bursting out with a wicked snarl. Leon backed up while the bio weapon positioned itself between him and the doctor. It looked undersized, half the size of a normal one, and sickly with pustules oozing fetid, yellow gunk over its body. Its legs trembled under its own weight and it sucked in wheezing breaths.

“I kept an egg.” Ezra replied. “Seems the mutation to her DNA made it sickly. Shame really, but it’s a rather decent guard dog at times. Much more loyal than Andrew.”

The hunter growled before it leapt at Leon. He dodged to the side as it swung its claws, skittering to right itself. It was slow to turn, one of its back legs lame, and he moved in to jam the knife into its back. It let out a shriek and swiped at him, forcing him to dislodge the knife. The wound began to knit itself back together.

“Damn.” Leon hissed. “Chris, get the doctor!”

“Right.” Leon saw Chris settle Katrina down on the floor before he ran for Ezra.

The hunter slashed at Leon again, missing him by a few inches. It growled in rage that turned into a sharp hiss when the snap of a gunshot echoed in the small room. Leon looked to see Chris grab his shoulder, and Ezra holding a revolver. Chris bared his teeth, blood seeping between his fingers, and that was all Leon saw before the hunter slammed into him, smashing him onto the floor. It may have been small, but it had enough heft to it to pin his chest with a leg.

The wind rushed out of him as it opened its jaws, saliva dripping against his cheek and in his hair. Its breath smelled putrid, like rotten meat left to bake in the sun. He let out a shout, shoving at the thing when he remembered Katrina’s heart. If this thing was mutated from her, maybe it had her weakness. Leon managed to loosen his arms and jam the knife into the monster’s chest. It hacked gobs of phlegm at him and lifted a clawed arm in an attempt to hit him when he stabbed it again and again. Leon jabbed the knife into the hunter’s chest over and over while it squealed. Its weight let up, and he rolled them, sitting on its chest as he continued to stab it, its chest now open and oozing black blood. The knife grazed ribs, punctured a lung, and pierced the thing’s heart repeatedly.

His breath came out in ragged pants, his pulse thundering in his ears. Warm hands grabbed his shoulders, and he whirled around with the knife to see Chris. Relief flooded him, and he pushed away from the creature. It let out a final, ragged hack before collapsing against the floor.

“Chris.” He whispered.

“It’s dead.” Chris said, pressing his hand back to his shoulder. “The doctor got away.”

“Are you okay?” Leon moved to touch Chris’s arm.

“Yeah, just a graze, he missed. And-” Chris made a strangled sound as Leon grabbed his face and pressed their lips together. They parted, breathless. “I’m okay.” He touched Leon’s cheek.

Leon held his hand and looked toward the door, seeing it hanging off its hinges. There was a large dent with a boot tread below the knob.

“This is bad.” Leon said, letting Chris go with great reluctance. He went to check on Katrina, watching the wound close.

“I know.” Chris replied, sheathing his knife. “There’s a chance for a global epidemic from this.”

Leon wiped his knife off on his jeans, feeling the blood soak through. He tucked it through the back belt loops.

“We can’t even get one goddamn break, can we?” He knelt beside Katrina to see her flutter her eyes. “Swear to God, it’s like the universe doesn’t even lube up before it fucks us in the ass with a fucking pike.”

Chris shook his head. “Pretty sure we’d just be even more paranoid if things were easy, Leon.”

He had a point. Katrina sucked in a wet breath and lifted a hand to Leon. He took it, the touch of her skin like ice as her fingers curled around his.

“Sor-sorry.” She wheezed.

“Don’t be, kid. You did what you had to do. It’s fine.” Leon rubbed her fingers. He turned back to look at Chris. “Anything of ours in that room? Anything we can use?”

“No.” Chris called. “It’s just an empty room. I don’t even see our bag. He must have left it on the road.”

Chris walked back into the room while Leon helped Katrina sit up. Tremors started in her back, rolling up to her shoulders. She quaked in his grip hard enough to make him readjust his hold.

“It’s okay.” Leon whispered near her ear. “Your dad’s gone.”

“I’m not worried about him.” Katrina murmured as she turned her head enough to look at Leon, blood trailing down her lips to drip off her chin. “Andy’s coming.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he noticed Chris glance up. This was a worst case scenario. It was the town square with Buddy all over again. Chris withdrew his knife and waved at Leon.

“We gotta move. Now.” He started for the room Ezra had been in. “Piggyback her.”

Leon started to protest before he bit it back. Chris was the heavier of them and it was both an advantage and a disadvantage. Leon was quicker, even with Katrina’s weight. If it came down to it...Leon shook his head. He wouldn’t abandon Chris. Even if they were down to nothing.

“I’m not leaving you, Redfield. So get that macho bullshit out of your head.” Leon said as he followed Chris to the exit. “Claire would kill us both.”

Chris laughed. “Pretty sure she would find a way to bring our ghosts back just to kill us again.”

They ran for the door, Chris wrenching it open as a distant wail started up in the forest. Leon felt Katrina tighten her hold on him, burying her face in his neck, as they charged into the darkness again. He was starting to get sick of vacations.

~*~

  
Adrenaline pumped through Leon as he ran through the woods beside Chris again. His heart sat in the base of his throat, throbbing with every snap of a branch behind them or whimper from Katrina. They found the path outside Ezra’s cabin and followed old, worn signs to what they prayed to be the service road. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

The dirt road opened a few dozen feet ahead of them onto a paved section. The trees thinned around it enough for Leon to catch sight of the Rhododendron’s parking lot. He bit back the spike of relief, knowing they were still in the depth of danger. This was when everything went wrong.

“You still have the keys to your rental?” He yelled to Chris.

Chris glanced at him with wide eyes as he patted himself down. They slowed for him to check the small lighter pocket, yanking out the little key ring with a Kia logo. Leon bit back the second wave of relief as they ran with renewed vigor towards the parking lot. The rental sat where they’d left it earlier in the day, and once they were in range, Chris pressed the unlock button. The lights flashed as they made it to the car. Chris jerked open the driver’s door while Leon piled himself with Katrina into the front passenger seat. She made a soft noise of discomfort.

Chris jammed the key in the ignition before he even shut the door. He glanced in the rear view mirror as he put the car in reverse, squealing the tires. Leon wrapped his arm around Katrina’s waist while his other hand grabbed the handle above his head when Chris threw the car in drive. The tires squealed again as the little Kia soul lurched forward, zooming down the curved road.

“Leon, call Hunnigan and get an ETA on the cavalry.” Chris slowed for a more severe curve.

“On it.” Leon let Katrina go to dig in his pockets. “Ah fuck!” He patted down his right then lifted in the seat to grab for his back, all of them empty. “Fuck! I lost my phone!”

Chris glanced at him as the road curved again. “What the he-”

“Look out!” Katrina screamed.

Leon grabbed her waist, holding her tight to his chest, as Andy dropped from the trees and stood in front of them. Chris slammed on the brakes, stopping the Kia.

“Oh fuck.” Chris whispered.

Ezra stood beside Andy, one of their shotguns held in his arms. He pumped it.

“You gentlemen are determined, my compliments.” Ezra called. “Maybe whatever Andrew leaves behind, I will use for my next experiment. Will you give me back my daughter willingly?”

“Ram them, Chris!” Leon yelled.

Chris slammed his foot on the gas pedal, the little car’s engine giving its best impersonation of a roar. Ezra stepped aside, lifting the gun, while Andy remained stiff in the road.

“Get down!” Chris screamed, grabbing Leon and jerking both him and Katrina down.

The windshield shattered, spraying glass over all three of them. Chris started to lift his head when another shot took out the back glass, and the car swerved. Leon pressed Katrina close to himself as they slammed into something with a crunch of metal, the airbags deploying. One caught him in the side of the jaw, hitting him hard enough he saw stars.

“Fuck.” He muttered and felt the rush of air when Chris slashed his knife through the bag.

“Andrew.” Ezra’s voice carried. “Collect Katrina if you would.”

Andy rumbled something, and Leon glanced up to see him coming. His motions were jerky, jittery. His eyes burned the same violet but with muddled glints of green. The side of his face, the side that lacked the gaping hole, looked twisted in a grimace. Leon squeezed Katrina tighter as Andy came around the front of the car where it had smashed into a thick pine tree. His hand caught on the door handle just as Andy reached for it. He shoved it open into the wendigo, twisting to push Katrina out. She flailed and hit the asphalt on all fours as Leon followed behind her.

“Get up! Move!” He grabbed for the back of her dress when he felt Andy slam into him.

The road rushed toward him, and he struck out his hands to catch himself, scraping his palms. Andy pressed his weight down on his back.

“St-stay down.” Andy’s breath came in pants, and the smell of death hung off him in waves. “Stay down. Please. Don’t want. Don’t want to hurt.”

“Andy!” Katrina crawled towards them, grabbing for his arm. “Stop!”

Andy pressed a gnarled hand against Leon’s cheek, the skin cold. He could feel every line of bone, every tendon. He hissed and looked to see more of the green coming through the purple.

“Kitten.” The tone sounded soft, apologetic.

Andy looked down to Leon, what little bit of the man that survived the infection staring at him with pain in his eyes. The sound of footsteps clapped across the asphalt in a leisurely pace.

“It’s a wonder the improvements made with someone else’s research. Rebecca Chambers is a genius. Her synthesis on Arias’ virus helped make vast leaps for my own.” Ezra stopped at Andy’s side. “Now. Which of you do I kill first?”

Leon stared up at Ezra from his peripheral, Andy’s weight pressed against his lower back. He huffed out a breath, dust stirring against the asphalt as he struggled to think. Katrina was still gripping Andy’s wrist, pleading with him in a gentle voice, and Chris was still in the car. The sound of thunder echoed louder, the storm moving in.

Ezra shifted and took a step closer until the cold barrel of the shotgun pressed against Leon’s ribs. It felt heavy, crushing, even though the doctor held it firmly. Leon’s heart beat at the back of his throat, thick and rapid. Hours before, he wanted to die, but on his own, to be the one to pull the trigger himself. Not this. Not pinned to the ground by a bio weapon with a tortured woman beside him, the evil scientist gloating above him, and Chris fucking Redfield there to witness it. But there were others. Others who needed to live and survive and make it to see another day. He may have been ready to let himself die, but not Chris and not Katrina. They deserved to see another day.

And he was damn well going to make sure of it.

“Come on, Doc, you’ve got us with our pants down here. Don’t you want to brag a little? I mean, hell, your lab didn’t even get scrubbed!” Leon laughed. “You did something a lot of other Umbrella scientists can’t say.” The gun shifted away from Leon’s ribs, and he fought the surge of relief.

“I think I’ll deal with Captain Redfield first.” Ezra took a step back.

The relief soured in his gut. “Wait! No! Chris!” Leon shouted.

The asphalt crunched under Ezra’s shoes as Leon watched him step out of his line of sight. He saw the shotgun raise, saw it aim, and then heard the crack of gunfire.

“Chris!” Leon felt his heart twist as he struggled to buck under Andy. “Chris!”

Ezra dropped back, the shotgun clattering to the ground, and clutched at his chest. He swore and dropped onto his back, unmoving as blood soaked through his sweater. Leon struggled harder under Andy, hearing the monster snarl in his ear. He pressed into the asphalt with his knees, trying to shove off the ground when he heard combat boots running for him. There was another shot, and Andy’s weight disappeared. A second shot. Third. Fourth. Andy hissed and leapt forward as Chris came around the car and smashed the grip of his revolver against Andy’s nose. It staggered him enough for Chris to kick him in the gut.

“Get up!” Chris yelled as he gave Andy another kick, this one putting him on the ground. “Leon!”

Leon shoved himself up, feeling the sting in his palms, and saw Katrina grab for him. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her feet to shove her past her father’s motionless body. Andy surged back up toward Chris with a screech.

“Leon!” Katrina grabbed Leon’s arm, fear painting her face.

“Run!’ He tore his arm away from her, feeling her nails take skin, as he pulled his knife out of his belt loops to charge Andy.

Andy’s head jerked to the side, eyes violet again, and roared. Leon put his shoulder down and into Andy’s side, pushing him back but not over. He raised the knife, aiming for the heart, when he felt the claws dig into his sides. He winced but managed to jam the knife home, Andy letting out a shriek before lifting and throwing Leon like a doll. His ribs throbbed, sending stabbing pain through his chest until he couldn’t breathe. Blood pooled down his sides in rivers. It hurt to move, but he managed to sit up. He heard the last shot from Chris’s revolver. Saw it hit Andy’s shoulder. Andy screamed again and smashed the back of his arm into Chris, sending him down.

“An-Andrew…!” Ezra’s choked voice floated out to them. “Andrew!”

Andy turned to peer at Ezra. His arms jerked at his sides as he struggled to remain still. He took a step and stopped again before moving in twitching motions to the doctor. He knelt to lift the doctor to his feet.

“We must re-retreat.” Ezra wheezed, watching Leon. “For now.”

Andy fidgeted and Ezra slammed his fist against his chest with a quick flash of a syringe. Leon struggled for breath, his vision tinting black, as Andy let out another snarl before turning to run into the woods with Ezra in his arms.

“Fucking...bio weapons.” Leon slurred and held his sides. He started towards Chris feeling lightheaded. “You...you good, Red-Redfield?”

Chris looked up at Leon, eyes wide. The lightheartedness made Leon’s vision hazy, and he felt his knees hit the asphalt hard. Blood rushed past his fingers and each breath burned.

“Leon!” Chris’s face came into view, jaw tense, through the darkness. “Leon! Stay with me! Leon!”

Leon dropped onto his side as Chris grabbed him. He could feel the callouses against his cheeks, the warmth of Chris’s hands. It felt good. Without hesitation, Leon turned into the touch and smiled. He closed his eyes, opened them to see Katrina by Chris. She was saying something, and Chris was feverishly shaking his head. Chris looked desperate and afraid.

The warmth flooded his entire body, and brought a sweet numbness to his limbs. His eyes closed again, opened, and he lifted his hand to cup Chris’s cheek. The pain in his chest eased, and it felt like he may have stopped breathing. That felt nice.

“Do-don’t...don’t let...don’t let Claire write my epitaph.” He whispered before his eyes closed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thrilled to still have readers this far! Mostly because we're getting into the parts of the story where my confidence in the concept falters a little. Here's hoping you all stay until the end.
> 
> I rag on the Kia a little more in this. I actually think the souls are cute (due to that hamster commercial from years back) but they're terrible cars.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone gets force fed blood. So. Be aware of that.

Light flickered overhead in sweeps of dark green and white. Voices drifted in and out of the haze, muffled like they were buried under pounds of cotton. Leon struggled to open his eyes. The sweet numb sensation gave way to the aching heaviness of his limbs, and the cold trickle of blood down his sides. He sucked in a breath through his nose, his lungs felt shredded, ragged against his ribs.

“Fuck.” He whispered and shut his eyes.

“Leon? You’re awake!” Chris’s voice drifted to him somewhere from the darkness. “You need to stay awake!”

He opened his eyes and felt air rushing past him. It smelled stale, rotted like death, and his chest pressed against something firm and warm. Strong hands held his legs, and his arms were slung in front of him. His fingertips touched fabric, and he smelled aftershave and gunpowder through his clouded senses.

“You carryin’ me, Redfield?” He whispered, resting his chin on Chris’s shoulder. “Sweet of you.”

“We’re almost back to your cabin, Leon. It’s going to be okay.” Chris’s voice came out calm. Years of training and experience picked out the unspoken worries, the hidden fear. “Hunnigan’s team is going to be here any minute.”

“S’not gonna be good for them.” Leon slurred in Chris’s ear. “You know this is when things go to shit on us.”

Chris swallowed, Leon could hear it. “Not this time, Leon. We’re gonna be alright. Still owe you that date.”

“Yeah.” Leon whispered. “Gonna need fuckin’….fuckin’ ties.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Chris’s neck. “Chris...”

“Stay with me, Leon! Stay with me!” Chris yelled. “You need to stay awake! Come on, Leon! Claire will kill us both if I let you die like this!”

The sound of a door opening jarred Leon enough to open one eye. The harsh yellow light of the cabin made him groan. It was nothing compared to the sudden coldness of the bar top as Chris laid him flat on his back. A weak mewl left him.

“Claire’ll kill _you_.” Leon mumbled. “I’ll already be dead.” He managed a raspy chuckle, hissing from the pain.

Something wet pressed to his forehead. He looked to see Katrina standing by him with a rag. She met his eyes. Poor thing. How many people had she seen die now? He was just adding to her trauma.

“You...you shouldn’t watch, Kat.” He wheezed. “You and Chris need to...need to get out of here. Wait for the rescue units.”

Katrina shook her head and climbed onto the bar beside him. Chris squeezed his shoulder and moved away into the kitchen. “I had a med kit in the duffle.” The drawers opened a moment later. “We need to stop those wounds on your sides from bleeding. I don’t think those went too deep.”

“Speak for yourself.” Leon tried to turn and groaned when he couldn’t.

“You need to stay still.” Katrina’s hands pressed into his shoulders.

She sat back, brows knitted as she chewed her lower lip. The action was...cute. The whole idea of someone he saved playing nurse was cute. Even Chris trying to take care of him was cute. Maybe if he hadn’t been so out of it and hurting like someone kicked him in the side and dropped a piano on him, he’d have lingered on the thought a little longer.

Chris came back with more towels, and a fresh cloth for Katrina. She took it to wipe Leon’s brow, his cheeks, down his neck. Her hands were gentle, careful of the cuts and scraps from the road. If he winced, she whispered an apology. She was so gentle, so intent on comforting him.

“How.” He mumbled as he felt the hem of his shirt peel away from his skin. He felt cool metal touch him and heard the soft snip of scissors. “How could your own dad hurt you like that?”

Katrina glanced at him, surprised, then looked away. “He was upset when my mother and older brother died.” She shifted to rest his head on her lap. She lifted a hand and hesitated before stroking his hair. “The truck hit the back of our car and slammed it into a building. My brother died instantly. My mother...didn’t.”

Chris paused cutting to share a look with Leon.

“You don’t have to tell us.” Chris said as he resumed, exposing the wounds. There were four on either side of Leon’s waist above his hips, and one on each side of the front.

“I...want to.” Katrina said and held the rag over for Chris who poured some of Leon’s alcohol onto it. She squeezed his shoulder as she cleaned the punctures, and it took more effort than Leon would ever admit not to scream from the sting. “I wasn’t hurt as bad because I was in the back pinned between the seats. I could hear my mom saying it would be alright. She was hurt pretty bad, I could tell because they got me out first. And that’s when I saw it.” Katrina’s shoulders tensed and tears welled in her eyes.

“Katrina.” Leon touched her hand.

“She had a pole through her neck from the truck’s cargo. It had missed me by a foot. Got her through the chair and into the dash.” She lifted a hand to rub her eyes. “My dad treated me like some sickness. He threw me out when I turned eighteen. I didn’t see him again until...” She opened and closed her hands.

Leon held her hand and hissed when Chris pressed a towel against his side. “Your dad’s a piece of shit.” He said. “And he’s going to get his, promise.”

He shifted a little and looked down to see the formerly yellowed bruises of his ribs taking on a more angry reddish purple. He still felt lightheaded, and his chest ached. Not in the same way it had already been doing. No, this was deeper. Like one side was full of concrete that was slowly drying up. He coughed, squeezing Katrina’s hand.

“Fuck this hurts.” He wheezed sharply, breath sounding wet.

Katrina looked at him and leaned down to press her ear to his chest. It hurt like hell, but he didn’t have the strength to move her. She straightened after a second to look directly at Chris.

“I...I think he’s punctured a lung.” She said, and Leon shivered.

Chris held his ear near Leon’s chest. “How can you hear that?”

“It’s really faint, but the way he’s wheezing.” She nodded, confident. “It’s punctured. I know it is.”

Leon gasped and struggled to sit up. “We need to go.”

“I can’t move you like this.” Chris said. “The broken half could be floating around in your chest, and could puncture your lung again, or the other lung, or your heart. We need to wait for the cavalry.”

“I...don’t know if I can.” Leon mumbled. His throat felt raw, and his mouth was starting to take on a cottony taste.

“You’re Leon Fucking Kennedy.” Chris said. “You can. You’ve fought things worse than this.”

Leon forced a smile, swallowing. “Funny. Birth certificate... says... Scott.”

Chris smiled at him. “Well, either way. You need to hang on.”

Leon groaned softly and looked at Chris. “At least... get extra guns... jeep. Dropped keys outside. Watch your back.”

Chris nodded at him and backed away to start towards the door. Leon closed his eyes and tried to think of anything besides the pain in his side. The mix of dull and sharp worked at him as a breath in felt like razors shredding his lungs while the breath out felt numb. If they were lucky, the rendezvous team would have a medic. He really didn’t want to think too much on the alternatives.

“Come out here to kill myself… job... does it for me.” He whispered.

“What?”

Fuck. He forgot Katrina for literally two seconds.

“Nothing, kid.” He muttered.

“You wanted to kill yourself?” She leaned over him, her face a foot from his. “Why?”

Leon wanted to sigh in exasperation, but that would hurt and he had a little sense left in his stupid, stupid head.

“Don’t wanna get te-technical, but life’s not great. Short stick contest..., you win. But this. Chris and I fight stuff.. all the time.” He felt a cough itching in his throat.

“So you wanted to die?” She asked. He nodded. “Do you still want to?” Her eyes watched his, and he swore she was looking through him. He could practically feel her picking at his tender emotions, peeling away his skin.

Chris’s promise came back to mind as the jeep chirped. Doing everything alone, feeling so alone drove him even further from people. He had no guarantee Chris would want to act on what they shared. All he had was hope. The idea that that hope mattered so much to him scared him a little. He had never depended on something so desperately. He had never _needed_ something so desperately.

“No.” He said gently.

Katrina smiled. “Good. I think you and Chris are good men. Good men who deserve to be okay.” She settled Leon’s head off her lap and slipped off the bar, stepping into the kitchen. A drawer opened. “I can help you, Leon. But you’re not going to like it.”

Chris came back in and locked the door behind him. He held a mini gun in one hand, and the navy duffle holding the rest of the cache in the other. He looked at Leon then past him.

“Shit, Katrina, what are you doing?”

Leon turned his head too quickly, his body protesting with a stab of pain, to see her holding a large carving knife. She looked between the two of them.

“I know a way to help him. We don’t have anything to use for the punctured lung like needles or tubes, but we have something that will help as a whole.”

Leon looked at her then the knife then Chris. Chris did about the same, lips parted slightly as he stepped closer.

“What do you mean, Katrina?” He asked.

“Me.” She said. “I was made to heal. So why can’t I heal someone else?”

Leon cringed as he remembered the Las Plagas that had infected him years before. What he’d gone through to get it out of his body before it took control. No way in hell did he want to go through that again.

He took in as deep a breath as he could, forcing himself to sit up. “Fuck no. I’m not getting in-infected again. No offense. I’m sure you and wha-whatever virus your psycho dad cooked up bonded great-” Leon jerked as his body spasmed into a coughing fit.

Chris dropped the bag and hurried to help Leon turn on his side. Everything hurt, and when he pulled his hand away from his mouth he saw blood. Another fit started, and it felt like something in his chest moved.

“I’m not like those things from Raccoon! I don’t turn people into zombies!” Katrina yelled.

“N-no!” Leon managed between coughs. Stars erupted behind his eyelids and lingered like dots when he opened them. He coughed harder, blood dripping from his mouth. “No!”

He looked at Chris who looked back, gripping his shoulder tightly. He wheezed and felt Chris lay him down on the bar again. His side felt cold again, and his arms felt heavy.

“Stay with me, Leon! Stay with me!”

Leon tasted blood. He smiled weakly at Chris and lifted a shaky hand.

“Ca-can...” His eyes widened when he saw the glint of the knife and heard Katrina whimper as she cut straight down her wrist. He jerked to try to shove her away, but she was on the bar straddling his waist and pressing her open, bloodied arm to his lips. There was no difference in taste between his blood or hers, but as hers hit his tongue, the back of his throat, the pain ratcheted itself higher, and he blacked out.

~*~

Heat ran through Leon’s veins like electricity charged by acid. He could feel where he’d swallowed the mix of blood trail down his throat into his stomach. The pain in his side faded into a blissful nothingness as the rest of him hurried to catch up. His heart pattered against his ribs in quick succession, threatening to stop after every other beat. Maybe he seized, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he rose off the table once or twice. His eyes and teeth felt like they were going to fall out of his skull if he moved wrong. Even his hair hurt.

And just like that. All the pain stopped.

Leon opened his eyes to see Chris standing to the side, holding a towel to Katrina’s wrist. They were arguing, Chris seething with rage as he towered over Katrina who cowed to him. Carefully, he pushed himself up and cleared his throat. They fell silent and turned to face him.

“Leon, you’re alright.” Chris moved to clap a hand on his back. “Thank fuck. How do you feel?” His eyes moved over Leon’s bare torso.

Leon shrugged and looked down himself to see the injuries had disappeared, the bruises cleared.

“I feel fine. But you and I are going to have a talk about consenting to someone jamming bloodied body parts in other people’s mouths.” He pointed at Katrina.

Katrina held the towel to her wrist and nodded grimly. “I’m sorry I did that. I just didn’t want someone else to die.” She stepped closer. “I don’t remember everything that happened to me, but I remember I’m not infectious. I don’t bring the dead back.” She wet her lips. “I wanted to help you.”

A look crossed her features, scrunching her nose and creasing her brow. Pain. Regret. Leon lifted his hand and settled it on her shoulder. He still had apprehension about what she’d done, but he could respect it. Or at the least, push it aside to deal with later. Even with the unknown virus, it might have been the best alternative. Without something to release the fluid in his chest, he would have died.

“Thanks. Let’s get out of here.” He eased off the bar and took the duffle to pull out his spare handgun. “We’ve licked our wounds long enough.” He nodded toward the door with Chris and Katrina close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so don't follow this if you suspect someone of having a punctured or collapsed lung.
> 
> I fiddled with the car scene. In Kat's story, she's actually the one who's severely injured. The back part of the car is practically crushed. Her head's been split open (the wound she has in this fic from a guard mirrors it). Her mom's not hurt aside from some scrapes. Because her story involves magic, her mom makes a deal with the pediatric reaper to save Katrina, giving up her life for her daughter. 
> 
> Funnily enough, the consent to things in others' mouths is a thing in a friend's Bloodborne fic, too.
> 
> There's gonna be some issues from what Kat did.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags changed again~  
> This is probably my favorite chapter.

The jeep started with a thrum as Leon put it into drive. Chris held Katrina in the passenger seat this time as they pulled away from the cabin. The road stretched ahead desolate, the forest silent. Clouds drifted over the moon, darkening what the headlights didn’t touch. Sparks of lightening flickered among the clouds.

“How do you feel?” Chris asked. Again.

Leon watched the road, taking the curves carefully. He had a bad reputation when it came to driving anything with more than two wheels, and the mountain roads were the least forgiving he had ever been on.

“I feel fine.” He said. “I feel great.” As much as he hated to admit it, that was the truth. The Las Plagas had been painful, agonizing, but this felt like nothing.

Katrina gripped Chris’s shirt. “They used my blood for experiments, it’s how I know I don’t turn people.”

The idea that Umbrella finally made a reagent that worked worried Leon. Not just because he now had that agent in him, but for what that meant for Umbrella’s other projects. Projects like the Tyrants, Nemesis, things that already had some form of healing. Things. That. Didn’t. Fucking. Die.

“We didn’t see any evidence in the lab.” Chris said, holding Katrina close as they took a wider curve. They could see the tail lights of the busted Kia ahead.

“It was mentioned in Ezra’s journal. My question is why haven’t we dealt with souped up zombies with Katrina’s healing?” Leon sped past the rental. “Hope you got insurance on that thing.” He muttered.

Chris snorted. “I don’t know. But Umbrella can’t get their hands on those notes or Katrina.”

That meant when they got her out, she’d be quarantined like Sherry. Prodded, experimented on. All with the label “for the greater good”. But she wasn’t like Sherry. Sherry had been infected by accident, hunted by her father because his virus made him. Katrina had been turned into an experiment because her father wanted petty revenge. And now there was a chance her samples were leaked onto the black market. If Ezra told the truth, then he could have reverse engineered Sherry’s virus to make Katrina’s.

“We need to see about someone in our organizations who may have taken Sherry’s samples.” Leon said.

Chris nodded. “A leak.”

The entrance to the park loomed ahead of them, the light over the admission booth burning bright. Leon let his foot ease down on the pedal, the jeep giving a surge as it sped up. His hands tightened on the wheel, every muscle waiting for the inevitable smash of Andy on the roof. When it didn’t come, he let out a sigh.

The tires exploded in the front then the back.

Leon jerked the wheel, and his jeep went into a skid. Chris wrapped an arm around Katrina as Leon struggled to get out of it. The passenger side slammed into the stone divider between the two lanes of traffic in and out of the park. The window shattered, spraying beads of glass over Chris and Katrina as the jeep rocked on its rims.

“You two okay?” Leon asked as he pulled his gun from the holster.

“Yeah.” Chris shifted.

“I’m okay.” Katrina looked around them. “What happened?”

“Spike strip.” The two men said in unison.

Leon rested his hand on the handle and pushed the door open. He stepped to the backdoor to get his bag. The road looked clear until he saw the metal teeth of the strip glinting as it retracted into its sleeve. It must have been set on a motion detector to release.

“I’m getting really sick of this shit.” He said to the sky. “Where the fuck’s my evac?”

Katrina and Chris crawled out through the driver door to meet him. The trio started out of the park, turning to see a massive military Humvee on its top. Blood was sprayed against the side of the vehicle and in pools on the ground. Spent bullet casings littered the ground near the widest arcs of blood.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Leon said as he headed for the Humvee, kneeling down to look inside through the passenger window. A communicator sat on the roof, dangling from a charging cable. It looked in decent shape. “Watch my back, going to try to grab this comm to call Hunnigan.”

Chris stepped over, holding the mini gun, as Leon eased in through the window. He was thankful for a fresh shirt, given the broken glass, this one with a little thicker fabric than his previous.

“Where are the bodies?” Chris called. “Andy’s MO’s gorge and leave scraps behind.”

Leon grabbed the communicator and started to wiggle his way back out. That was a disturbing question that needed an answer. As he stood, he looked around the crash. The blood looked fresh, and with minimal drag marks. No piles dedicated to clothes or bones either, just blood. Leon turned the communicator on and tapped in Hunnigan’s line.

“There’s footprints.” Katrina said, pointing.

There seemed to be several with combat tread as well as ones that looked like they belonged to dogs. A familiar barefoot pair led the group away from the overturned vehicle towards the woods. Leon saw the shimmer of a gas canister toward the back wheel of the Humvee. Beside it, the shattered glass of a vial.

“Hunnigan here. Leon! I’ve been calling for an hour, where are you? Did you meet up with the team?” She leaned into the screen, the light harsh on her glasses.

“Bad news on that.” He said. “The unit’s probably infected with an updated version of the A virus. My jeep’s tires are trashed, and the evac’s on its top. I really need some good news, Hunnigan.”

The bushes that edged the outer line of the park from the road rustled. Leon tensed and saw Chris raise his gun carefully.

“They’re dead?” Hunnigan asked as she tapped at her console.

“Probably undead, but yeah, they’re definitely not part of the living anymore.” Leon nodded.

Hunnigan frowned at him and adjusted her glasses. She pursed her lips.

“We have a helicopter on standby, but the woods are too dense where you are right now for them to land or even throw down a ladder.”

“Give us something here, Hunnigan.” Leon said, watching the trees.

“The map I managed to find shows there’s a fire tower a mile from you in the park. It has a decent sized clearing where they should be able to drop a ladder to you.”

“We have to go back into the park?” Chris said. “Fuck.”

“Seems so.” Leon shrugged. “Send me whatever you’re using Hunnigan and make sure that helicopter is here on the double.”

“Will do. Be safe, Leon.” Hunnigan closed the line, and a second later the map appeared.

Leon took a deep breath and glanced at Chris. “You know what we’re probably going to run into.”

“Zombie bears?”

“Zombie bears.”

“Greeeeat.” Chris sighed.

The road leading to the fire tower took them to the right of the Rhododendron, beyond a playground. A light wind picked up, and they could hear the metal squeak of the merry-go-round as it tried to turn. The dark shapes of the swings waved back and forth with a creak from their chains. Leon caught himself looking towards the playground as they passed it, expecting zombies, zombie kids, to come shambling out from between the equipment or the shelter.

The wind stirred stronger around them, rustling the leaves at their feet. They swirled and twisted, catching on the brambles of the bushes that lined the path. There was still no sound from any animals, but a constant sense of something moving through the woods trailed after them.

“Can you...do you feel Andy?” Chris broke the silence first as he looked down at Katrina. They kept her between them as they moved.

“He’s not here, but something else is.” She looked around Leon’s shoulder into the woods. “I’m not sure what though.”

“It’s probably from the rescue team. They’ve got to be infected.” Leon glanced at his map as they came to the end of the playground. A dirt path stretched in front of them with trees to either side. “Really don’t want to go down here.”

“We don’t have a choice, and we don’t have any vaccine.” Chris took the first step, shining his light down the path. “So that means when we have to, we shoot.”

The path opened the farther they went, but the forest remained dense on either side. The bushes rustled continuously with the breeze, and the sound of thunder echoed in the distance. More clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the moon and stars. Roots ran across the path from the larger trees, and bramble vines grew unkempt and tangled with the kudzu. Katrina whimpered when she found one with her bare feet. It was harder to ignore their bite without the rush of adrenaline.

“Here, Kat. Climb up.” Chris knelt and offered his back. She hesitated a moment, ready to decline. “I know you heal fast, but we’re not running, and I know that has to hurt. I can carry you.”

Leon moved closer to her and patted her back.

“You’d be a cake walk for him to piggyback instead of me, kid.” He smiled at her as she climbed onto Chris’s back. “Alright. We need to keep moving.”

Chris shifted back to his feet, using one arm to hold Katrina while the other held his gun and started walking again.

A loud snap of a twig echoed around them followed by the shuffling of footsteps. Leon lifted his gun in time with Chris when an enormous elk staggered through the bushes. They paused as it stood on the path, heaving in a breath through its nose. The thing was massive with antlers that jutted out with at least ten points on either side. It huffed again and turned to them. The entire left side of its neck was open, pulpy flesh torn against ropes of thick muscle. It stumbled towards them.

“It’s turning.” Leon fired, the bullet jamming into the middle of the elk’s neck through a tuft of dark, bloodied fur.

It hitched in its motion, its eyes turned glossy, and it let out a bleat. Its head lowered, and Leon became deadly aware the antlers were pointed for him. He jerked to the side, barely missing a swing, and turned in time to watch Chris pop off a round into the elk’s head with the mini gun. It jerked and threw its head back at Chris, hitting him with the side of its thick neck. Katrina yelped as they fell, Chris pinning her. The elk reared back on its hind legs, razor sharp hooves primed to trample them. Leon moved forward, jamming his gun against the open wound in its neck, and fired. The elk gave another loud grunt, staggered back, and dropped on its side.

“Did you kill it?” Chris asked as he shifted off Katrina. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She hooked her arms around his neck again while he stood.

“It’s not dead. Just paralyzed.” Leon gestured as the head moved and bent down to press his gun to the animal’s temple. The elk jerked weakly, going still when he fired again.

“And I thought the dobermans were bad.” Chris muttered as he picked up his flashlight. “Can you hold this for me, Kat?”

The woods erupted into motion around them. The sound of another elk bugling drifted from the left followed by a sharp whine of a coyote. Leon looked at Chris before they both broke into a sprint. The path twisted ahead of them with thicker vines and roots sprawling in wide sweeps that made the terrain shift. A coyote flew across the path in front of them, most of its side gone, just as an elk, a cow maybe, charged forward with two more infected coyotes on its sides. They clung to the flank, scrabbling for purchase with their claws.

“Shit!” Leon breathed as he glanced at his map. “Keep going straight!”

The infected animals ignored them, but once the elk fell, one of them branched off and snarled at their backs. Leon could hear it charge, and he turned on his heel, letting Chris run past. One shot, right in the head. It yelped and went down. Leon didn’t pause long enough to see if the others would follow them. The smell of blood and open bowel wafted past them as they saw the body of a deer laid bare in the bush, its upper limbs flailing weakly to get purchase as the virus took over. Behind them, the coyotes howled in unison and far ahead an answering call rang out.

“I liked it better when it was just one zombie!” Chris yelled.

“Just keep going!” Leon shouted back.

A root caught on his boot, and he sprawled across the ground. He shifted on all fours when a hand grabbed his ankle. The groans started as he turned over to stare at one of the soldiers sent to help them. Half the man’s cheek and upper neck were missing, blood oozing out when he groaned. His grip tightened on Leon’s ankle as he tried to pull himself up the leg. Most of the soldier was in the brush, but as he crawled out, Leon could see half his right leg was missing.

“Ah, shit.” Leon lifted his handgun and fired into his face. The soldier dropped just as the black form of another coyote moved out of the bushes where it had been eating the other leg. “Fuck!” Leon fired again as the coyote dodged and leapt for his face.

Leon turned his head right as Chris slammed his boot into the ribs of the animal, sending it rolling away. He fired three shots then grabbed Leon’s arm, hauling him to his feet into a sprint.

“You good?”

“We’re getting too old for this shit.” Leon shook his head.

“Tell me about it.”

A series of agonized animal screams started into the night, echoing around them. They faded, rose in pitch, faded, then twisted into the agitated snarls and grunts of the infected. The woods around them vibrated with the sounds of chaos as the creatures went after any living thing they heard, adding to the screams. For six years the park avoided an outbreak, now it was the epicenter.

~*~

As they ran, more infected animals came bursting out of the woods. Rabbits, squirrels. Anything that hadn’t been eaten to the point the virus couldn’t reanimate it. Along the way, a few more of the soldiers shambled out into their path. Leon shot the quicker moving creatures, saving his bullets on the slower ones.

“It shouldn’t have spread this fast!” Chris yelled as they took a slimmer path that led deeper into the woods. “Raccoon’s outbreak took months! People were missing! Cases started in Arklay first!”

The path opened into a clearing that stretched hundreds of yards in three directions. A small fire tower stood in the center with a staircase wrapped around the base that held the building aloft.

“If he’s working with Arias’s virus then there’s a chance he has a trigger.” Leon yelled as they ran for the stairs. “He could have put something into the environment at any point in time and released it.” The stairs creaked as they jogged up them, the sounds of the infected rising behind them.

The door leading into the tower was left unlocked and swung open into the pitch black with a clap of wood on wood. Katrina turned Chris’s flashlight around the room, the light bouncing off the windows that stretched from wall to wall. A single desk sat to the farthest corner with a radio, lantern, and a stack of books piled on top of it. The bed sat to the nearest wall and then there was a counter with a sink and camping stove across from that. A dark curtain divided the room’s bathroom in the remaining corner.

“Fuck, this is going to have to hold up.” Chris muttered as he sat Katrina down on the bed. He looked back at Leon. “How we doing, Kennedy?”

“Could be better.” Leon said as he stood in the door. The trees started to sway farther off as the din from the animals rose. “Something big’s coming.” He looked back in the tower and beside the door. An old brush ax sat propped against the desk. “Chris, grab that. We need to bust the stairs down to keep as many of these things from getting up here as we can.”

“Gotcha.” Chris grabbed the ax and stepped past Leon to go down the first two flights of steps. “You sure we don’t have another option, Leon?”

“Hunnigan’s sending a chopper. She said this is the closest open place they can drop a ladder for us.”

“Alright.” Chris smashed the first few stairs, the planks dropping to the ground. A coyote charged from the woods, racing up the undamaged steps towards Chris. It leapt, and he buried the ax in its face. “Fuck! Get us an ETA, Leon!” He pressed his boot against the thing’s skull to yank the ax out, returning to smashing steps.

Leon put in the number and Hunnigan answered immediately. “We’re at the fire tower. Where’s our ride out?” He asked, looking around. There was more movement, more snarls.

“It’s on its way. Maybe forty minutes maybe an hour.” Hunnigan said.

“An hour? What’s taking it?” A bolt of lightening lit up the sky followed by a crack of thunder.

“That’s your answer, Leon. A storm formed making takeoff difficult. They’re on their way. You need to hold out.” Hunnigan replied.

“Hold out? We’re in a goddamn fire tower with infected animals coming for us, and we don’t know where the hell Dr. Sparrow is with his monster! We’re getting our asses slapped, Hunnigan.”

Hunnigan pursed her lips and looked at him a long moment. “If anyone can do this, it’s you and Chris Redfield. I’ll try to get your rescue as soon as I can. Be safe, Leon.”

The communication ended, and Leon clenched his free hand, thumping it against the wall. He cursed and shook his head.

“You and Chris must be really big monster hunters.” Katrina said. She held her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her fingers.

Leon watched as Chris took out another row of stairs. He looked back in at Katrina.

“Yeah. I guess we are. We’ve been doing this since Umbrella’s first outbreak.” He sat his duffle down and opened it to pull out a box of ammo for his handgun and for the mini.

“Not a lot of people can do what you guys do, huh?” Katrina asked, voice soft.

Leon pulled out the clip to his gun and added in the bullets, putting the clip back before he looked at her. Her eyes were watching him like they had at the cabin. It was like she could see straight through him. It left him feeling cold, vulnerable. He tried not to think about her blood.

“No. We’re a rare and special type.” He repeated the same motions to the mini’s clip. “Anyone who survived Raccoon City seems to have a fucked up guardian angel.”

“Fucked up?” Katrina tilted her head. “What makes them fucked up?”

The sound of chopping stopped, and Chris took the mini gun from Leon when he offered. He went back out towards the rail, shooting anything that got too close. Leon saw Katrina shift closer from his peripheral and sighed.

“A lot of people die around us. A lot of people we’re supposed to save or help.” Leon waved his hand. “And we survive shit that would kill other people. Whatever protective halo we have is a fucking cloud of death for those around us.”

Katrina looked at him then stood up. The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she moved towards the window. She lifted her hands to press to the glass and leaned her forehead against it. Her shoulders hitched.

“Did my daddy really do all this?” She asked just above a whisper. “Why?”

Leon wet his lips and stood up, shouldering his bag. They really didn’t have the time for an existential breakdown, but she was...hurt. Broken. And he couldn’t fault her for those feelings, even if they were a luxury he and Chris never could afford. It made him ache deep in his heart. He stepped beside her and looked out to see more animals, and several civilians breaking through the brush. There were a few small shapes that lumbered closer. When the next bolt of lightening lit the sky, he could see the blue of their uniforms: cub scouts. He hissed a swear under his breath.

“Umbrella is the kind of company that attracts people who sold their souls to the devil. They make these weapons to hurt others and unleash them on the world. They don’t care who they hurt so long as they get what they want out of it.”

Katrina’s fingers bent against the glass, and she stifled a sob, her breath leaving little puffs of fog against the glass.

“He wants me.” She whimpered and turned to look at Leon. He stared down at her, watching as she forced herself to stop crying. “He wants me.” She swallowed and stiffened her back, balling both fists at her sides and narrowing her brows. “He wants me, and...and you and Chris should let me go back to him.”

“Katrina, that-no.” Leon shook his head.

“You should! He just wants me! I’ll go back to him, and you two can get away. I can keep the zombies busy, too.” She squared her shoulders and nodded. “I’ll go back. Too many people have gotten hurt because of me. No more.” She started to shake as she struggled against fresh tears. “Just...please. Let me go back.”

He pressed her against his chest before he even thought. His hands were in her hair, and he was shushing her as her hands tensed against his sides before she gripped the fabric of his shirt until it pulled at his shoulders. He could feel the warmth of her tears against his chest. He always found the little broken ones. Ones like him, but so shattered it took effort to see beyond the cracks.

“You can’t go back to him.” He whispered, closing his eyes as Chris fired another shot. “You can’t.”

“I need to.” She whimpered. “He won’t hurt you if I do.”

“That’s really stupid.” Leon said without venom as he carded his fingers through her hair. “Nothing is stopping him from killing us while we have you, so he’ll kill us the second we don’t. And then he’ll use you to make Umbrella worse. And I know you don’t want that.” He shifted back enough to touch her jaw, making her meet his eyes. “Chris and I will keep you safe. We’ll keep you away from him. You’ll never be hurt again.”

“But...” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

As much as he didn’t want to be reminded having her virus coursing through his veins, Leon tipped her chin up again and offered a coy smirk.

“Hey, you’re our deus ex machina. You healed my busted lung. You’re better than an herb mix any day, kid.” He laughed.

Despite herself, Katrina smiled and looked at him quizzically. “What’s an herb mix?”

“It’s-”

“Leon, I’m gonna need your help here.” Chris called.

Leon let go of Katrina to step out onto the slim walkway The infected paused several yards from the tower, their milky eyes focused ahead. Another bolt of lightening lit up the sky just as a light rain began to fall around them. As the flash lingered, the low rumble of thunder following it, Leon saw Andy standing in the center of the mob.

His skin looked even more ashen, patches open and weeping like he was decaying. There were two knots peeking through his hair like unformed horns. As their eyes met, he lifted an arm high over his head, claws clenched, and let out a guttural roar that left Leon’s ears ringing as it drowned out the thunder and echoed through the forest.

And then the horde surged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! Stuff's happening! And the joke that Leon's not allowed to operate anything with four wheels shows up. And I mean, let's be fair, the guy can't help the accidents. They're not directly his fault.
> 
> Also, yes, we do have elk. They brought them into where I'm from/where this is based. They're huge and scary. Beautiful from a distance though.
> 
> I draw a lot of similarities to Sherry and Katrina in this. It honestly didn't start out as intentional, but here we are. And there are large differences in Birkin vs. Ezra. Birkin sought his daughter out because the G Virus made him. Ezra intentionally stalked his kid because of pure hatred. Which is funny because when I first started writing Wicked Toys (Katrina and Andy's story) back in 2008, Ezra was a super loving father who ended up turning his daughter into a monster for fear of losing her like he lost her mother. It was after a few years of working over the story, adding and subtracting characters and plot points, that he made this HUUUUGE heel face turn from good, loving dad to what he is now.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I'm loving Dad!Leon.


	10. Chapter Ten

The infected moved towards the tower in a wave. Leon’s breathing slowed, his hands tense as he stood beside Chris. He fired one shot. Two. Three. They didn’t have enough bullets for this. It was the Slavic square with Buddy all over again, but this time they had no tank, no lickers, and he didn’t think Hunnigan would come in with another drone strike. 

He could hear them screaming, hear Andy still roaring, and the controlled spurts from Chris as he took out the ones closest to the base of the stairs. The smell of gunpowder hung in the air, and the wisps of smoke from their barrels lingered like a halo over Chris’s head. Leon moved forward, each step like walking through mud, and fired at a deer with broken antlers as it charged for a beam supporting the platform. It grunted and dropped on its side as another came, and he could see the forms of elk moving closer. It looked like they had...eyes. Eyes all over their bodies. Red ones that peered at them and brought back bad memories.

They were going to run out of ammunition before the forest ran out of infected. He turned just as the next hit jarred the platform, shaking him back to himself. The world sped up in flashes of lightning and gunfire, chased with the sounds of screaming and thunder. He looked over the side to see an elk as large as the first they encountered. It bugled and slammed into the beam, the sound of the wood splintering dull over everything else.

“Fuck. This tower won’t last an hour.” Leon muttered and grabbed for his bag. He pulled out a box of grenades and another handgun. He looked at it then for Katrina. “Hey, Kat!”

She stood half inside the tower, pressed tight against the door frame. Her lips parted in silent words, and her eyes were wide and blank. Leon grabbed her arm, shaking her.

“Katrina!” He yelled, but she stood still. “Katrina!” She jerked and blinked out of her stupor. The tower gave another lurch.

“Leon.” Chris said, his tone a warning.

“I know.” He looked over his shoulder. “Can you shoot?”

“What…?” She mumbled.

“Can you shoot?” He held up the gun, taking off the safety. “I need to know if you can shoot.”

“I...” She shook her head no then nodded. “Yes, yes. I can. Andy’s a hunter...he taught me how.”

“Okay, good.” Leon put the gun in her hand and pointed beside Chris. “I need you to help Chris. Aim for the head or neck. Okay?” She started to look vacant again, and Leon gave her another firm shake. “Can you do that?” She nodded. “Good, good.”

He watched her step beside Chris and lift the handgun. He didn’t get the chance to see her shoot when the elk smashed the first support beam, and the entire tower groaned, lurching to the right. Leon swore and looked down to see the animal prepare for another strike when he clipped it in the right front leg. It went down, not dead, but unable to ram them again.

“Come on, Hunnigan.” He breathed and opened the box of grenades. 

They always felt heavy especially in those few, quick seconds when the pin came loose, and they sailed through the air. Like holding a rock. A rock with enough concussive force to sever limbs, break bones, and separate soft tissue altogether. The weight of a gun registered similarly, but he could lift that without thinking. He always felt the weight of the grenades, always tensed until he heard the explosion.

The first landed in the middle of a wave, and sent dirt and gore rocketing through the air, leaving a small crater behind. 

“You brought grenades?” Chris said, glancing over his shoulder at Leon, surprised.

Leon met his eye and couldn’t stop the smirk. The incredulous almost pouting expression on Chris’s face reminded him of a kid on Christmas when their best friend received the better toy.

“Surprised you didn’t, Redfield.” Leon unpinned another, chucking it towards the next mass of zombies. It exploded. “Aren’t boy scouts supposed to be prepared and all that?”

“You’re something else, Kennedy.” Chris shook his head and returned to firing.

Leon laughed. “Sure am, Red-” He stumbled back when the tower shuddered to the left. His stomach hit the rail, his hand tightening on the grenade box. “Fuck! Chris!” He looked to see Chris holding onto the door frame and squeezing Katrina’s arm to keep her from sliding under the rail. Leon looked past them to see Andy moving forward. “Oh fuck.”

The platform tilted, and Leon caught the glimpse of something furry and massive pressing all of its weight against their side of the tower’s support. The black bear reared back on its hind legs, fur and flesh peeling off it in hunks like it had been infected for days not hours, and smashed its heavy paws against the wood. The tower groaned, threatening to topple

“Fucking zombie bears!” Chris yelled. He pulled at Katrina, shoving her back into the tower room.

Leon pushed away from the railing to pull himself towards Chris. “You think you can shoot the bear?” He said as he pulled out another grenade, watching as Andy came closer. “I’m going to try to slow our friend there down.”

Chris looked over the side then at his gun as the bear smashed its paws down again and again. He nodded at Leon and skidded to the rail. Leon pulled out a second grenade and held the box under his arm to pull both pins. Andy snarled at him and started to sprint.

“Fuck you.” Leon threw the grenades, both landing in Andy’s path. 

He counted the seconds to detonation when, to his horror, he saw Andy scoop up one of the grenades. Leon’s eyes widened, and he turned to grab Chris by the back of his shirt. Chris protested, twisting around in time to see Andy throw the explosive back toward them. His arms tangled with Leon’s as they shoved inside the tower room.

“Hang on!” Chris yelled, grabbing Leon around the waist then Katrina and throwing them towards the bed. 

The grenade smacked against the solid piece of wall at the rail and rolled to a stop by the door. Leon pulled Katrina tight to himself as he watched Chris rip the single mattress from the iron bedframe. He curled around Leon and Katrina, one arm gripping the hand hold on the mattress. Chris barely got it in place when the grenade exploded behind them.

Wood splintered, glass shattered, and the entire floor gave way around them with a massive whine. The tower tilted and fell as Leon clutched tighter to Katrina and Chris. He thought he heard Chris shout or Katrina scream, but his ears rung from the explosion, and all he could do was wait for the ground.

They hit hard, and he heard Chris grunt in pain as wood and glass rained around them. Burnt pages from the books fluttered down, many still burning, and Leon could see part of the tower still standing. It swayed then rushed toward them. He stumbled against the debris when hands gripped his waist, and shoved him hard as he gripped Katrina. As he stumbled, he saw Chris with blood rolling down his forehead stagger, dragging his leg.

“Chris!” Leon let Katrina go and took a step just as the rest of the tower crashed down, throwing up dust around him. “Chris!’ He yelled.

The dust cleared, but Chris was gone. Leon stood still, staring at the wreckage, his heart in his throat. Rain began to fall around them, putting out the small fires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised zombie bears last chapter, and I bring to you, zombie bears.
> 
> Sorry it's a short one. I think there's a few more that are short because the action gets tight around this point. We're not done yet, but we're not far off from the end either. Unless I do some major additions, but seeing as this is all pre written, I doubt it.
> 
> I really need to write more action scenes. The entire time I've worked on this, I've felt like they're a little subpar. I write smut more than fights.
> 
> Fun little aside, tip of the hat to my friend Rococospade with the many eyed elk. It's from a world she made that she lets me dabble in (sometimes even help~) and they're called eichenhardts. They're from the world's version of Germany's black forest where...you don't want to go in there. I ended up tossing out the idea of the Black Woods and the two of us ran with it like the house was on fire which has led to some wild stuff. Though I don't think the eichenhardt are down for eating flesh. They're usually majestic and all spooky.
> 
> Also, I don't know if they'd still manage to survive the blast with just a mattress and Chris's sheer determination to not get esploded, but. Vendetta. Leon. Ducati. *throws up hands*


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It really delights me this fic has any love~ Thank you guys!

“Fuck, Chris!” Leon dug through the debris, throwing broken hunks of wood aside. “Chris!”

The rain beat down heavier around them, soaking through the broken timber and their clothes. Leon glanced up to see Andy staring at him ten feet away. Most of his left side was burned from the other grenade, his letter jacket hanging off his other shoulder. Lightning lit up the clearing again, and Leon saw the blood drip in dark clots from the wounds. The infected remained still before slowly creeping forward.

Leon grabbed for his gun, swearing when he felt empty air. A shot rang out above his head, and he jerked around to see Katrina holding the handgun he’d given her. She took a step towards him on shaky legs. 

Her lips trembled. “We need to...help Chris. I...I need to help him.”

Leon stood up and moved towards her, taking the gun and pushing her behind him.

“I...” He grit his teeth, biting back the bitterness of his words. “I don’t think we can help him.” Katrina’s fingers twined in Leon’s shirt, and he moved his free hand to wrap around her shoulders. He looked beyond Andy to see more infected campers making their way out of the forest. “Fuck.” He hissed. 

Andy’s lips curled back, revealing jagged teeth, and he threw his head back in a howl. His hands went to his head, clawing at his scalp. He dug at the skin around the knobs on his forehead until he peeled away enough to bare portions of his skull. No blood oozed despite the deep scalp lacerations, but spiny growths could be seen. He gave another vicious howl as antlers jutted from his forehead. 

_”You will give her baaaack!”_ He bellowed, shaking his head violently from side to side as points formed on the antlers. Andy screamed and dropped into a crouch. His lips parted, and he wheezed in a ragged breath, the shine of his eyes shifting from violet to green and back. “You...you should….ru-run.” His body shuddered as the horns finished forming, his claws digging into the wet earth. “RUN!”

Andy sprang forward towards Leon, howling. Leon lifted the gun and aimed for the head, his finger on the trigger. He applied pressure, keeping the gun steady as Andy moved easily across the ruined mass of the tower. 

The debris shifted, and a slim piece of metal erupted from the pile. Chris, bloodied and bruised, held the end of it, jamming the pole into Andy’s abdomen and through his chest. The tip of the pole, sharp from wherever it snapped, burst out of the side of his neck just shy of the more delicate innards of his throat. He stilled in his charge, staggering and gagging. His arms jerked at his sides in spastic shudders.

“That’s...for dropping a fucking...house on me.” Chris gasped and rolled onto the grass. 

He winced, and Leon could see a piece of wood sticking out of his left leg. The blood from his forehead oozed down into his eyes, and he turned over, blindly swiping in front of him. Leon looked at Andy before tugging Katrina forward. He refused to let the relief overtake him, he needed to focus. 

“Shit.” Leon grabbed Chris’s shoulders, hauling him away from the remains of the tower and Andy. “How you feeling, Redfield?”

“Like I took all eighteen wheels of a semi. Ah!” He grabbed Leon’s hand as they moved backwards across the grass. “Fuck! Leon!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it hurts like hell. Where’s that big bad B.S.A.A. wonder boy?” Leon stopped when he had another ten feet between them and Andy. “We’re not down until we’re out.” He glanced up, watching the other infected stop, their sickly forms swaying side to side. They looked confused. Or as much a zombie could.

“He-here.” Chris lifted his other hand to shove the mini gun at Leon. “A good soldier keeps this glued to his hand, right?”

Leon took it, grateful. “Right.” He looked at the zombies gathered in front of them again. He wouldn’t have enough bullets, and God only knew where that damn duffle bag or the grenades went. “Katrina! We’re still having that talk, but pull that piece of wood out of Chris’s leg and give him your blood!” At least, that would give them a chance. Or just extend their death rattles.

A coyote ran forward, growling, and Leon turned to face it. He applied even pressure to avoid spraying needlessly into the thing. Three shots. Down. Its charge broke the others from their stupor. He turned to meet the next animal, watching as Katrina bent at Chris’s side and started to pull out the wood. Chris let out a grunt, gritting his teeth against the pain, and stared up at Leon. Their eyes met for a moment before Leon shot again.

“You promised me, Redfield. You came out here to save me. Don’t you fucking die with me.” He yelled.

“Ha.” Chris let out a raspy laugh. “We picked a shitty hill to die on if we did, Kennedy.”

The wood came out and blood gushed through the thick denim of Chris’s jeans. In that same moment, Andy’s body jerked still, and he lifted a hand to the end of the pipe where it sat lodged underneath his ribs. His head tilted to watch Leon while he slowly pulled it out.

“Fuck! Katrina, hurry!” Leon turned the mini gun on Andy, watching as the shots peppered his chest before the gun clicked empty. “Shit!” Leon looked down to see Katrina slit her own wrist with a shard of glass and hold the gaping wound to Chris’s mouth. He moved to grab the handgun from its holster and straightened to see Andy was gone. “Where the fuck-” The hit came from behind, the sharp graze of the antlers catching at his side. He could feel warmth mix with the cold of the rain.

Leon hit the ground and rolled, landing near Chris. He struggled to sit up and aim when Andy batted the gun away. His hand went to his belt, searching for the combat knife when another hit sent him sprawling. The world spun as Leon struggled to focus. He saw Andy close in and spread his claws wide. Leon scrambled closer to Chris, leaning over him as he shook from the effects of the blood. The claws whistled as they cut through the air.

“STOP!”

Leon looked up to see Katrina between them and Andy, her arms thrown open. The claws stopped centimeters from her neck. 

“Ka-”

“Don’t speak.” She hissed down at Leon. “He’s focused on me. Chris needs a minute. Let me distract him.”

Leon looked at Chris who shuddered under him. The wounds on his face and in his scalp began to knit themselves closed, like the injuries happened in reverse. It was amazing and terrifying all in one. The power she held, the untapped potential. It was a tool and a weapon. If Umbrella managed to find her, to mass produce her power, the entire world of bio terrorism could erupt.

“Kitten.” Andy’s voice drug Leon back. The claws moved away from her, dropping to his side. “Kitten.”

“Don’t hurt them, Andy. You’re confused.” She let her arms drift to her sides, one lifting to touch his cheek. Andy recoiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m here.” She gentled her voice even more, brushing her knuckles along his undamaged cheek.

To Leon’s surprise, Andy knelt down towards Katrina in a slow crane of his neck. He let her touch his face, softly whining when her fingers brushed the hole in his cheek. He whimpered when she touched an antler. In return, she cooed softly to him, standing on tiptoe to press their foreheads together. 

“I can’t stop it, kitten.” He breathed. “I’m sorry. I keep hearing his voice.”

Leon felt Chris shiver again and pressed his hand over Chris’s chest, feeling his heartbeat flutter. The rain lightened around them, and the infected seemed stagnate in their places, at the most they wavered back and forth now. Maybe Andy had sway over them.

“You can fight him, Andy. Fight them.” Katrina said with a quiet voice that broke at the edges. “For you and for me.”

Andy shifted back a little, and the infected around them gave off an agitated noise in response. He hissed and moved his hands to hold hers, pushing them away.

“I can’t, kitten. I just... I’m so hungry.” He wheezed. His hands clenched around hers. “He wants me to...to eat you. All of you. And...and I can’t stop him!”

Katrina winced. “You’re hurting me, Andy...”

“I’m so hungry!” Andy clutched her wrists and yanked her closer.

“No!” Leon grabbed Katrina’s waist. Andy snarled, and the infected joined him. “Andy! Stop!” Leon let her go and lifted a hand in placation. “Stop!” The hissing settled around them.

Andy bared his teeth at Leon, the green of his eyes swirling with the violet. “Tell him they need to go, Kat. They need to go.” He whispered.

“Le-Leon...”

“No, Katrina! We’re not going. Not without you.” Leon kept his hand up as Andy roared at him.

“She’s mine!” He screamed, baring his teeth in a threat.

“She’s not anyone’s!” Leon yelled back. “She doesn’t belong to you or her father! And if you loved her, actually loved her, you’d know that!” He felt Chris grip his pant leg. He spared a glance to see him nod. “If you love her, you’ll let her go. You’ll let her be safe. Even if that’s away from you.”

Andy stared at Leon. “You don’t know...anything.” He rasped.

“I know that you’re hurting someone you say you love.” Leon said. “You may not have a lot of lucid moments, but you’re lucid right now. You can think. Hasn’t she hurt enough?”

Andy’s eyes flicked back to Katrina who shivered under the scrutiny. 

She whispered. “It hurts, Andy. Please?”

“You’re a good person.” Leon said as he slid his hand into his back pocket and pulled out the locket. He watched the recognition spark in Andy’s eyes as he stared at the gem. “I found this. He’s your brother, right?” He opened the locket and dangled it in the air.

Andy stared at it, his brows knitted. “Johnny.” He whispered. “My little brother.”

Leon held it out to him, watching as the sharp claws delicately caught the stone, folding it into his bloodied palm. Andy’s eyes stayed on the picture as he brought it closer.

“We...was just us.” He whispered. “Mom left, Dad died. I...took care of him.” He closed his hand around the necklace. Andy shifted to look at Katrina then Leon and Chris. His eyes were soft, the purple completely gone, leaving a haunting yellow-green in its place. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” He mumbled and turned to see the infected milled around them. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“You don’t really get to have that choice, Andrew.” Ezra’s voice called as he stepped out of the woods. “We both know your virus has progressed effectively, and this is the last vestiges of you trying to maintain control after eating Katrina’s tainted flesh. She’s a temporary patch, not a cure.”

Right, his notes called her a prototype, Leon recalled. He still had no idea what that meant, and it worried him for both his and now Chris’s safety. He didn’t have long to dwell however as Andy let out another beastly snarl before he sprinted towards the doctor.

“You ruined both our lives!” Andy screamed. “I made her happy! I made her forget the hell she lived with you!”

Katrina grabbed Leon’s arm, panic in her eyes. “Where’s your rescue?”

“It’s on the way.” The infected in front of them moved as one towards Andy. Whatever understanding or control he’d had broken. “Fucking hell.”

“This is a first for me.” Chris muttered as he forced himself to stand up, rubbing the blood from his eyes. “We need to move.”

Leon opened the communicator to call Hunnigan again. All the while, Andy tore through the smaller infected with his claws. The larger creatures, like the bears or cervids, seemed to take more effort, slowing him down as they tried to swarm him. He snapped the horns off one of the multi eyed monster elk, jamming the broken bits into the animal’s neck and twisting until he hit spine. As he moved, his motions turned jittery again and every so often, Leon saw a hunk of meat disappear into his mouth, or his teeth sink into flesh. Katrina whimpered behind him, and Chris moved to grip her shoulder, pulling her close.

“This is fucking insane.” Leon said and looked down when the call connected. “Hunnigan. I need good news.”

“I have some. The helicopter is just ten minutes out from you. How is everything on your end?” She asked.

“Going to hell and fast.” He turned the communicator around to show her the fight between Andy and the other infected. “Don’t ask me how, but there’s still something human left in him. I just hope when he finishes with them, he doesn’t forget that.”

“My God.” Hunnigan whispered. “I need to send word to the chief. We need to quarantine that entire area. If those infected animals travel, it could take years to get an outbreak under containment.”

The last zombie camper dropped at Andy’s feet. He took in a panting breath and turned, moving towards Ezra with his shoulders hunched. His fingers flexed, the claws on either hand soaked and dripping with blood.

“You better scramble a team fast then, Hunnigan.” Leon said.

“Oh, yes. Best work fast.” Ezra called. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. “You’ll be playing quite the round of cleanup soon.”

The ground shook, and the tree behind Ezra cracked in the middle before the familiar shape of a Tyrant 103 lumbered out to stand beside him. Leon felt his throat tighten as the ground shook again and a second one appeared. His hand shifted back to find Katrina’s shoulder and scrabble at Chris’s hand. Katrina’s hand lifted to catch on Leon’s and he moved to squeeze her fingers.

“Fucking hell.” He whispered.

The three monsters stared at each other while Ezra smiled happily to himself. Leon backed against Chris and Katrina, waiting. He felt Chris grip his arm tightly where he held Katrina’s hand. They shared a look, silently planning their next moves.

“You got this, Andy.” Chris whispered. “He’s got this.”

Andy threw his head back and screamed into the night. He hunkered down, aiming his horns, and charged forward to meet the two Tyrants head on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for keeping with me so far, guys. Like you have no idea how much that means to me. I looked at the stats earlier and the fact people are subbed to this thing just makes me get all squishy. Like I went in writing this for me and figured like one or three people would see it to the end. We're not at the end yet, so don't think "Monie's waxing philosophical, next chapter's the end!" or anything. No, I'm not done being cruel just yet. I've not broken our boys enough.
> 
> And the monster turns on its creator! Ahhh! We all knew it was coming because that's how these things go in RE. I tried to leave some breadcrumbs throughout in foreshadowing, hope it worked.
> 
> Also, you know you're boned when your only source to patch injuries is a woman with an unknown virus that regenerates tissues. At least Leon and Chris can bond with their shared paranoia of "are we going to turn into monsters". Also, never remove anything that's penetrated the body. It can be the only thing keeping you from bleeding out.
> 
> I may doodle some art for this fic. That or just post some stuff off my dA so you guys can see what Andy and Kat look like.
> 
> See you next Wednesday~


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

The first Tyrant took the brunt of Andy’s horns to its abdomen, grabbing them and twisting Andy’s head to the side. Andy broke the hold with a slash to its face across the eyes. It grunted and grabbed for his head again, missing as Andy ducked and darted to the side toward Ezra. He threw up his arm to block a strike from the second Tyrant, shifting into a sidestep before they boxed him in. It growled in frustration and swung its arm wide, catching him hard in the shoulder as he twisted back to face it. He stumbled but stayed on his feet.

“Was he a boxer?” Chris muttered. 

“No.” Katrina flinched when Andy took a hard clock to the side from the second Tyrant. “He played basketball.”

Andy recovered from the hit, ducking the next strike. He backed off with a hiss as the first Tyrant moved to block him from Ezra while the second rushed forward. It managed to catch him around the waist and squeezed until something cracked. He threw his head back and let out a sharp cry of pain. 

“He needs help.” Leon jerked his head to see where his handgun had gone when Andy swatted it. He spied it a few feet away and ran forward, snatching it off the wet ground. “Hey!” He shouted and fired a shot at the Tyrant holding Andy, catching it in the collar.

The bullet barely made a difference as the monster glanced at Leon, turning back to its current prey. It tightened its hold, and Andy struggled against it, clawing at its arm until he managed to wriggle his upper half enough to grip its shoulder. His claws dug into the meat of its bicep and pulled until he worked enough of himself free to sink his teeth into the Tyrant’s neck. Leon moved closer and took another shot that hit it in the cheek. It released one hand on Andy in favor of swiping at Leon while Andy jerked his head hard to the side, taking a sizable chunk from the Tyrant’s neck and shoulder. It dropped him, and he landed in a crouch, chewing and swallowing his prize. 

Andy wiped his mouth, hands shaking at his sides, and he was moving again. He ducked under a strike, twisting around the Tyrant’s back as Leon took another shot towards the open wound. It grunted in annoyance, and the second one turned away to charge after Leon. Andy grabbed it by the arm and swung his weight against it to stagger it into the first one, leaping onto its back when it stumbled from the collision. He bit its neck like the first though much deeper. It fumbled its hands behind its head trying to grab him when he bit it again, tearing a hunk of muscle free that forced it to drop an arm.

“What the hell are his teeth made out of?” Leon muttered as he fired off another shot, cursing when the gun clicked. “Fuck!” The first Tyrant righted itself and turned on Leon, barreling into him and knocking him back with a massive arm.

Andy jammed his claws into the hole in the second Tyrant’s neck and twisted his hand back and forth until the claw tips burst through the front of its throat. It grabbed at him more frantically until he jumped off. It advanced, thrashing frantically and trying to catch him as he moved away from it closer to Leon. 

The Tyrant loomed over Leon with fists raised high over its head. The muddy ground squelched under his boots as he tried to scramble away. He could practically feel the bone crushing smash of the Tyrant when he was shoved in the side and rolled away in time to see Andy take the hit, slamming face first into the ground. The Tyrant pounded its fists against Andy’s back hard enough to make his spine bow. Blood spurted from his mouth from the force.

“Shit.” Leon whispered as they made eye contact. 

Andy focused on him, his eyes looking tired. “Save...her.” He gasped as he took another devastating hit.

A pain twisted around Leon’s heart as Andy kept his focus on him until Leon managed a nod. With that confirmation, Andy turned over between strikes and lifted both legs, slamming his heels into the Tyrant’s stomach. It staggered enough for him to get back on his feet, slashing his claws at its face. As it backtracked, the other Tyrant moved in and snatched the ripped edge of the letter jacket, jerking Andy off balance and towards it. Andy thrashed and kicked, trying to work the sleeve free when it grabbed his arm and twisted. The bone snapped and pierced through the mottled skin before hanging limp at his side. He let out a shriek of pained fury and tried to swing with his uninjured arm. The Tyrant caught it and yanked until it dislocated from its socket, turning the scream of rage to agony.

“No, no, no!” Katrina’s voice rose into a scream. “Andy!”

Leon staggered to his feet, looking for anything to attack with. He spied the discarded pipe Chris had used earlier and grabbed it. He ran for the monster, jamming the pipe into one of the Tyrant’s legs. It grunted and backhanded him roughly to the grass. Leon hit hard and felt the air rush out of him. 

“Get...back!” Andy snarled as the Tyrant grabbed him around the waist again. “Get ba-ahhhh!” It applied pressure at his chest, and the scream cut off in a jagged gargle as blood poured from his mouth. The other Tyrant moved closer. He kicked out at it and looked at Katrina. “I’m sorry, kitten.” He wheezed as the second Tyrant grabbed his head, one hand catching in the hole in his jaw, and the other at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes closed.

“No.” Leon forced himself back to his feet. “No!”

In one quick, clean motion, the Tyrant jerked its arms back. The snap and tear of flesh echoed loud through the forest, and Leon stood staring as Andy’s body and his head separated.

“Andy!” Katrina screamed and Chris barely caught her around the middle when she tried to run to him. She thrashed against him still yelling. “Let me go! I can help him!”

Chris looked at Leon as he backed towards them and squeezed Katrina tighter to himself. Leon watched as they threw Andy aside and lumbered towards them, the one he injured ripping the pipe from its calf. Katrina struggled harder against Chris as he twisted them away when the first Tyrant broke into a sprint. Leon fell in step with them as they broke for the treeline.

The whir of a helicopter echoed above them followed by the sound of a missile rushing through the air. Leon watched it streak across the sky, and twisted around to see it slam into the first Tyrant’s chest and explode, leaving nothing but chunks of flesh behind. A second missile caught the other Tyrant, blowing it away. The helicopter cleared the trees, shining a search light down on them. 

“We’re throwing down a ladder!” The solder manning the missile launcher yelled as he dropped it over the side.

The guns on the other side of the helicopter rattled to life as more infected staggered out of the woods. Chris drug Katrina towards the ladder as she continued to fight him. 

“Kat, listen to me!” Leon gripped her shoulder and twisted her around. The agony in her eyes squeezed his heart tight enough he thought it would crush it. “He used the last bit of his humanity to protect us. You can’t help him anymore, and I’m sorry for that. But he’d want you to be safe.”

“But, he-” She whimpered.

“He went into that fight knowing he had to save you.” Leon squeezed her shoulders. “He...he went in ready to die. So you have to be ready to live.” He softened his expression, his voice still loud enough to carry over the helicopter. “Please, live, Kat. Live.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, grabbing blindly for the ladder when Leon shoved it into her hands. Chris helped her up the first few rungs. When she was halfway, Leon looked at Chris.

“You regret coming after me?” He nodded to the ladder in a silent urge for Chris to go first.

Chris shook his head and leaned in to touch Leon’s forehead with his own. The look in his eyes was sobering, soft. 

“I don’t regret it.” He said in Leon’s ear before he pulled away and began to climb the ladder.

Leon watched him a moment before he followed. The helicopter lifted into the air, and he looked to see Ezra disappearing through the woods as more infected spilled out around him. The remains of Andy’s body lay among the gore and destroyed ground, his face turned away from them. Leon muttered a quiet thanks to him before hauling himself inside the helicopter.

The helicopter started for a hospital a few miles from the park with promises of a military convoy to meet them. Leon leaned back in his chair and took a long breath in a vain attempt to calm his nerves. Chris sat across from him pressed against the side of the padded seat. Katrina had fallen asleep in the first fifteen minutes, curled tight against Chris’s side. Leon didn’t blame her, did wonder how given the loud noise of the helicopter. It was hard to say since the last time she ever slept and exhaustion was a bitch. Shock, too. He looked out the window, watching as they rose over the mountains. It had been a long day.

“Hey.” Chris called. “You okay?”

“I’m...I’m alright.” Leon turned to look at Chris, offering a thin but genuine smile. “Thanks by the way. For coming to check on me. I don’t know if I would have made it without you.” 

“I’d say the same.” Chris agreed. “This was a two man operation.”

Chris chuckled mirthlessly and rested his hand on Katrina’s side. She stirred, inching closer to him. One of the soldiers had draped a warming blanket over her, and Leon watched her wiggle against the seat until she could rest her head on Chris’s thigh, her feet pressed against the arm rest as she compressed herself. Maybe it was the heavy, gray blanket obscuring most of her or even Chris himself, but he was reminded how small she was. 

“We’re both probably infected with whatever virus she has.” Leon said with little venom as he crossed his arms and pushed himself tighter into the corner of his seat. 

“Maybe. Her dad did say she wasn’t a cure. Whatever that means.” Chris gave a one sided shrug.

Leon scoffed. “Could mean anything. Could mean she’s toxic after a certain period. Could mean you die from complications later on. Blood disease. Anything.”

Chris rubbed Katrina’s arm and sighed. “Guess we have to take our chances, right?”

Leon looked back out the window. Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's good to see if you made it here and didn't throw your hands up and go "Monie, whhhhy" and quit. So thank you~ Also, I think this is the last short chapter. (Don't quote me I may be wrong.)
> 
> So if anyone wants to see Andy and Kat, here's a quick, ten minute sketch concept I scribbled up the other night. 
> 
> https://sta.sh/08f7denmymd 
> 
> You can find more on my actual dA, but I don't have any recent Andy drawings up.
> 
> I'm also not exactly sorry for what transpires in this chapter. It's pretty in line with canon save for the Tyrants. Ezra has a different attack dog so to speak then.
> 
> We're not finished just yet. Even if our heroes get a reprieve from the onslaught. Also, I know I downplay the action with Chris and Leon and limited them. I give a little more with the boys fighting later on. No more stealing their weapons.
> 
> And again, thank you so much to all the people who've commented, kudo'd, subbed, and bookmarked. I still make excited little noises to see them.
> 
> 6


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The helicopter hovered over the hospital landing pad, rotors slowing as they landed. Leon startled awake, surprised he managed to fall asleep, to see Chris do the same. He glanced at the face of the communicator to see a quarter past three AM in bright numbers. Still early, he thought. Twelve hours before, he had been sitting on a patio getting drunk. It never ceased to amaze him how soon things could change.

“Must have been tired.” Leon straightened, a new pain blooming in his side. “Damn, everything hurts.” He pressed his hand back against his ribs, hissing at the tenderness.

“Yeah.” Chris agreed as he rubbed the flat of his palm against his forehead. He shifted to shake Katrina. “Hey, wake up, Kat.”

She stirred, pushing away from him, uncertainty flashing across her face as she looked between the two of them. Leon shifted a little out of his seat towards her. He wasn’t sure if her damaged memory pertained to short or long term, or if rest affected it. Katrina blinked and rubbed at her eyes before leaning towards Leon.

“Are we here?” She asked in a groggy voice.

Leon managed a small smile despite the pain still throbbing in his side. He nodded.

“We are. There’s people here who can help you.” He tilted his head toward the window of the helicopter. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

A medical team moved towards the helicopter as it cut its engines, the blades powering down. The gunner stood up next to Leon, opening the door and stepping out with the pilot. Leon started to stand, his side responding in kind with another dull throb. He slid his hand under his shirt to touch where Andy tried to gore him and grunted when his legs shook. It took effort to push himself up, resting his hand on the top of the door, the pain mixed with the sheer exhaustion and stress of the day.

An elderly looking doctor with a weathered face eyed Leon as he prepared to climb out of the helicopter. The doctor’s gaze looked him up and down with the discomforting sensation of a scientist observing a rare specimen. Leon pursed his lips as he forced himself to stand a little straighter.

“Agent Kennedy, Captain Redfield. It’s good to see you in one piece.” Leon wasn’t sure if that was seriousness or sarcasm. “I was told one of you will be our patient?” The doctor said as he waved over a nurse with a wheelchair.

Leon stepped down, and the ground swayed briefly. “Yeah, the girl. You’re going to want to put her in a secluded wing with armed guard posted outside the room.” The pain sharpened on his inhale. “Shit.” He pressed his hand against his side and struggled to force himself to relax.

Chris helped Katrina out of the helicopter and moved to touch Leon’s shoulder. The pressure of his fingers helped calm Leon down as he focused on the warmth of them. He lifted his head enough to mouth “I’m okay”, and Chris eased away from him, letting his fingers trail slowly.

“Did anyone call Rebecca Chambers?” Chris asked as he eyed Leon a moment longer.  
“She’s been contacted, Captain Redfield, and is in one of our labs waiting for the patient to be processed.” The doctor replied and looked Leon over again with the same dissecting gaze. “Are you alright, Agent Kennedy?”

“My adrenaline’s worn off, so the pain is catching up.” Leon said.

“Leon?” Katrina gripped his shirt hem while a nurse tried to encourage her into the wheelchair. She lifted her eyes to his, wide with uncertainty. “You’re okay, right?” The nurse managed to make her sit, and she let her hand slip from his shirt. “Right?”

The worry in her voice made him push the pain aside as he turned to look down at her. Her hands were in her lap, but he saw the subtle way they gripped the stained fabric of her dress. She was staring at him, only breaking the gaze long enough to turn to Chris to give him the same treatment. Leon stepped closer and rested a hand in her hair, stroking back her bangs.

“I’m okay.” The next smile was more genuine as he ran his hand through her hair again. “It’s just some muscle strain. Don’t get old, kid.”

Katrina’s expression eased some, but she didn’t look to have fully accepted the answer. Thankfully, Leon didn’t have to continue to convince her when the doctor nodded to the nurse, and the wheelchair turned around. Katrina glanced back at him over the chair as they wheeled her towards the elevator. Leon lifted his hand in a wave and waited for the elevator doors to shut.

“You good?” Chris asked after a moment of silence passed between them.

“No. Ezra got away.” Leon pinched his brows. “And my side hurts like hell.”

Chris caught his shoulder to guide him towards the stairs by the elevator. “From when Andy tried to gore you? Why didn’t you tell the doctor?”

“Because we’re going to have tests run anyways.” Leon pushed open the door, starting down the stairwell at a slow pace. His hand held the rail in a near death grip as his knees ached. “And Katrina was right there. I didn’t want to worry her.” And he was worried that the pain might not have a logical, rational explanation. He didn’t want Katrina to blame herself for his suffering. She’d done what she thought was right. “The kid’s been through a lot, and I don’t wanna compound that.”

Chris rested his hand on the door leading into the hospital and looked at Leon again. He made some half attempt at a smile before opening the door.

“I think after this, we need a nice, long nap.” Chris said as they moved down the hall. He stayed close to Leon’s side.

“I think I could sleep for three days straight.” Leon said as he ran his hand through his bangs, pressing the heel of his palm against his eye.  
A nurse stepped out from behind a corner and waved at the two of them. They paused and glanced at each other before stepping closer. She held the door open to a stairwell.  
“Sirs, there’s some people looking to talk to you, and we have a nurse ready to begin your testing. If you’d just follow me.” She stepped inside the stairwell.

Chris and Leon exchanged another look before they followed the nurse into the stairwell and began the walk down.

A representative from both their organizations met them at the middle of the stairs and led them to a waiting room. The nurse that escorted them began their physical exams as well as took blood samples. Fresh clothes were provided, their old ones removed for examination and disposal. They were given a few packages of shower wipes to clean off with, though they barely scratched the surface of the grit caking their skin. Even the nurse’s alcohol swabs could do so much as she treated their minor scrapes.

The questions began when they were dressed, and Leon began to pace the small room from agitation. He wasn’t angry at them, just irritated with the situation as a whole, and needed something to take it out on. Each agent brought incident reports for the pair to fill out as well as recorders for their statements. They confirmed on a map the area where Leon had been staying as well as the location of the mine shaft entrance and the former fire tower.

“Alright, gentlemen.” The D.S.O. agent said after what felt like hours as he stood, tipping his head. “I believe we have everything we need.”

“Did you at least send a team in before you pulled out all this bureaucratic bullshit?” Leon asked as he paced back in forth in front of the coffee table. His side still hurt, but the nagging anxiety of his looming test results gave him something else to focus on.

“Of course, Agent Kennedy.” The B.S.A.A. agent replied. She straightened and slipped her recorder into her bag. “They were on the ground shortly after your extraction. At this moment, the park is quarantined until we are assured that any possible outbreak has been contained, and until we have located Dr. Sparrow.”

“It will take some time considering the potential depth of the facility as well as the park itself, but we are confident in maintaining this issue.” The D.S.O. agent started for the door.

“Right. As confident as they were when they evacuated Raccoon and then blew it up?” Chris crossed his arms as he settled himself in a seat in the corner, propping a dirty boot on the coffee table.

Both agents turned to eye Chris. Even Leon glanced his way.

“The Raccoon outbreak was handled by Umbrella’s own personal team. We are not Umbrella, but if it comes to it, the area will need to be scrubbed. Considering what we know from the two of you, there is a high probability that this is a modified aspect of the A Virus which could be treatable.” The D.S.O. agent replied as he stepped aside to allow the B.S.A.A. agent to leave first.

The female agent paused and looked at them. “You’re one of us, Captain. Please, keep the faith.” She allowed a brief smile before stepping out, the door shutting behind them.

Chris let out a long sigh while Leon sank into the chair next to him with a squeak of plastic.

“Fuck this.” Leon scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s too massive an area to ever fully clear. And some of those animals had to have been infected by the T-Virus. They were rotting.”

Chris shrugged. “It’s going to be a helluva mess. I think the best we can hope for is releasing Rebecca’s vaccine into the environment and monitoring as much as we can. Treat it like the BP oil spill a couple of years back.”

“This isn’t like catching some animals for a bath.” Leon muttered.

Leon crossed his arms and rested his head against the back of the chair. This didn’t feel like a win, not without the mad doctor in custody and all those still infected roaming the woods. And even when they did find Ezra, that didn’t change all the lives he took. All the misery and pain he brought, even to his own kid. It didn’t change a damn thing. They were still infected themselves with no real idea of what it was doing to their bodies right-

“Get out of your fucking head, Leon.” Chris muttered and bumped their shoulders hard. “I swear to God, I have never seen a guy crawl into himself like you.”

Leon startled and opened his mouth, but let the biting reply die. It was time to admit the truth.

“I’m scared.” He said and looked away from Chris. “I’ve been here before, and I’m just as scared now as then. There’s a lot to worry about with blood. Even just normal blood.”

Chris shifted and leaned on the arm closer to Leon until their shoulders touched. He nudged Leon gently this time and rested his head against Leon’s. It felt nice, and Leon eased into the touch.

“How long did the nurse say it would take to test the blood?” Chris asked.

Leon shrugged. “Maybe an hour. She said they’d put a rush on it.”

“Alright.” Chris said and stood up. He held his hand down to Leon who looked up at him confused. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat. There’s nothing else we can do about this situation right now. Kat’s safe, blood’s being tested, and even if we wanted to chase down Ezra, we’d need at least four hours of sleep first. So let’s do something easy, okay?”

Leon stared at Chris in wonder. How the hell was he even able to think about food? Leon couldn’t even-his stomach rumbled angrily at him. A far too pleased smirk was spreading like wild fire across Chris’s face. Well. Fuck.

Leon sighed at length and took Chris’s hand. “Alright, alright. Fine. But if we end up dying, you still owe me steak in the afterlife, Redfield.” He was starting to hate how easily Chris put him at ease.

“I gave you my word, and I am a man of that.” Chris replied as they headed down the hall. “Which reminds me, I should call Claire. Keep an eye out for a pay phone.”

“I don’t think they have those anymore, Chris.” Leon laughed and tapped the elevator button.

“Hey, some places still do.”

Leon shook his head and stepped inside. He leaned against the railing as Chris pressed the lobby button. The doors shut with a click, and they started down from the twentieth floor. Leon glanced at the numbers when he noticed the elevator pad skipped the number thirteen. He nudged Chris to nod at it.

“If superstition helps them.” Chris shrugged.

“Maybe so.” Leon agreed, doubtful. Superstition never did them any good.

They were quiet a few seconds before Chris shifted his weight. He cleared his throat as the elevator counted down. It had several floors still to go.

“You know I was serious about the stuff I said today. About being around for you.” He turned to look at Leon, wetting his lips. “Wasn’t just to get you in bed.”

Leon tracked the flash of pink, letting his mind wander back to bleeding his grief to Chris. When Chris held and touched him.

“I’d like if you could.” Leon let his eyes roam Chris’s face, settling on his eyes. “I get it if you can’t though.”

“Leon.” Chris moved into his space, and they were chest to chest. He still smelled like gunpowder. It had been such a long fucking day. “I-”

Leon moved before any other rational thought came to mind. He hooked his arms around Chris’s neck and meshed their lips together. The taste of cinnamon met his tongue as he pressed against the line of Chris’s lips. The hesitation lasted for just a moment when Chris wrapped his arms around Leon’s waist and pulled him in tighter, parting his lips in silent permission. The kiss was gentle, calming, and as they parted, Leon took a breath.

“Does that mean you believe me?” Chris whispered.

“It means I’ll give you a chance.” Leon replied as the doors opened. He eased out of Chris’s hold and stepped out. “Just one though.”

~*~

The cafeteria was closed long before Leon and Chris arrived. A nurse passing by pointed them to a break room with a vending machine and offered them a five when she realized they were broke. Leon wondered if he would get his wallet back, or if he needed to cancel his cards. Again. He really hoped they found Mathilda. He hated to leave her behind.

“Would you trust a hospital vending machine sandwich?” Chris asked as he eyed the turkey and cheddar.

“There’s not many other options in that thing. Plus, it can’t be worse than anything else we’ve had on an assignment.” Leon shrugged as he slid two Styrofoam cups under the water cooler.

“Fair.” Chris agreed. “You want a turkey sub, too?”

“Sure.” Leon sat the cups down on the small table near the machines.

His lips still tingled from the kiss, and he caught himself running his tongue over them. The taste of Chris had disappeared, but he still felt his heat. It made him think about their moment, how he’d like to continue it into the future. Maybe it was a little impulsive, to want to throw himself into something so quickly, but Leon had always been impulsive. But this felt...good. It felt better than anything in a long time. It felt better than all those nights with Ada, with nameless faces to warm his bed. Maybe it was the fear of the results. Maybe it was the last of his adrenaline fading putting him in a haze. He felt so fucking tired.

Chris sat the sandwich down in front of him and a Hershey bar. The cellophane shimmered under the harsh halogen light as Leon unwrapped it. He lifted it to sniff before taking a bite. The cheese and meat tasted fine, but the lettuce had wilted. He took another bite, listening as Chris did the same.

“Do you want to see if we can find Rebecca after this?” Chris asked. “Maybe she’ll have better answers.”

Leon chewed and swallowed. “Yeah. And I want to check on Katrina.” He took another bite. “Seeing her boyfriend...we’re used to shit like that, but fuck, Chris.” Leon pressed a hand to his forehead.

“I hope they find that bastard soon.” Chris muttered low and threatening.

Leon made a soft noise of acknowledgment as hunger won over bitterness. It would be a lie to say he didn’t still feel afraid, but he wasn’t going to let it rule him. Fear had as much power as he was willing to give it. With every mission, he had no guarantee he’d make it back. This was no different. The mission wasn’t over yet.

“You ready?” Chris asked as he tossed their trash in the bin.

Leon stuffed the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and downed the remainder of his water. He opened the candy bar to split with Chris as they left the break room.

“We should check reception.” Leon said as he broke off a few squares of chocolate. He held them in his mouth to let them melt before chewing. “Get the room they put her in. Rebecca shouldn’t be far.”

Chris agreed and stepped towards the desk near the elevator to ask the receptionist.

“Room 1413.” She replied.

Chris thanked her, and they moved toward the elevator.

“Technically.” Leon said as he finished off the candy bar. “That’s thirteen thirteen.”

Chris clicked the up button and slid his hands into the pockets of his new jeans. They didn’t fit half as well as his other pair, to Leon’s disappointment.

“So it is. Do you think our bad luck will counteract any number’s bad luck?” He asked.

“God, I hope so.” Leon shook his head.

He was starting to feel tired, and the pain was returning in his side. Maybe he would see about a pain killer. Hell, maybe even a sedative if his results came back clear. The elevator opened, and the two of them stepped inside. Chris leaned on the rail near Leon, watching the numbers climb.

“I’m nervous, too.” He said quietly. “About being infected. We take a lot of risks in our job. This could happen at any time.”

Leon watched their reflections in the smooth metal door. He crossed his arms loosely over his stomach, uncrossing them when his side hurt.

“You thinking about early retirement again?” He asked.

Chris let out a rough bark of a laugh. “Fuck no. You?”

“Probably won’t get out of this job until something kills me.” Leon said seriously.

The doors opened to a hall with green walls that reminded Leon a little too much of the Exorcist. A white stripe ran the middle of it to highlight the rail for patients who had difficulties walking. They stepped out of the elevator to see the floor empty save for a soldier sitting behind the nursing desk and two at the end of the hall outside of a room. All three were armed, and the one behind the desk lifted his head to regard them as they walked past The pair nodded to them and stepped aside, the first guard opening the door.

Rebecca smiled as she looked up from where she sat on the end of Katrina’s bed. They stepped in, and the door shut behind them, the smell of disinfectant burning Leon’s nose.

“Chris, Leon!” Katrina beamed at the both of them.

She looked freshly showered and changed, the blue of the hospital gown making her skin look pinker than before, though her eyes looked as tired as Leon felt. There was a tray with a crumpled McDonald’s bag and empty burger box sitting on the nightstand.

“Hey, they cleaned you up nice, huh?” Leon moved to stand at the foot of her bed.

“Yeah. And the hospital gown’s not too bad after I was stuck in my dress.” Katrina lifted her arm, and he could see a blood pressure cuff inflating. A pulse monitor was attached to her finger on the opposite hand. The monitor screens themselves were turned away from them. His eyes shifted back to see Katrina watching him. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Kat.” Chris grinned. “I see you’ve met our friend Dr. Chambers.” Chris gestured at Rebecca.

“Oh yes, we’ve had a chat while we waited on you two.” Rebecca looked towards them both with a smile that looked professional. Leon felt his back stiffen, but managed to keep himself calm. Rebecca turned back to Katrina. “I actually need to talk to Chris and Leon about something. We’ll be right back.” She stepped away from the bed. “Follow me, boys.”

Leon flicked his hand at Katrina as he turned, losing his smile when he stepped through the door. The minute the door closed, he pressed close to Rebecca.

“What did you find in our blood?” He said, skipping right to the point.

Rebecca held a clipboard in her hand and pulled her lab coat closed with the other. She looked tired, and given the hour, Leon couldn’t blame her. Every one of them needed a goddamn nap. Hell, he’d probably hibernate if the news was good.

“You’re both going to be fine.” Rebecca lifted her free hand to gesture at them. “What’s left from her virus is burning up in your system way faster than I’ve ever seen anything metabolise. There’s no residual virus that I could find. If I hadn’t seen the samples myself, I would have given you both a psych consult.”

“Well that’s a relief.” Chris said as they stopped near the nursing desk. “I think I’d rather be labeled as crazy than infected any day.”

Leon let out a short laugh, the sensation of relief practically flooring him. “Damn. Her dad was wrong then. She is a cure.”

“She’s not.” Rebecca said and ran her hand through her short hair. “Whatever she’s infected with is in a cycle. I took some samples from her, and the blood looked normal under the microscope until it just eroded.”

“Eroded?” Chris said. “What do you mean?”

“After it had been out of her body for a few minutes, it turned to dust. Small amounts of her blood mixed with yours saw the blood refresh itself then when her cells died, yours returned to normal. Same thing with some skin samples. And her heart rate fluctuates between fast and slow. Her temperature isn’t staying level either. She can’t seem to regulate her systems, but there’s no catastrophic result from it.”

Leon pressed his lips thin in thought. “Yeah, I read something about that in her father’s journal. He was trying to harvest her for organs, but when he took her heart it killed her. So he put it back. I think it scrambled a bunch of stuff.” He glanced back down the hall towards her door. “She’s got memory problems, too.”

Rebecca’s nose wrinkled. “Do you have that journal, Leon?” Her frown deepened when he shook his head. “I know they sent a team in to retrieve any information, but that could take days or weeks. Months if we’re really unlucky. I don’t suspect anything that could be a problem for you or Chris right now until all of the blood results have come back, but there’s more than one reason she was left in that lab. Umbrella wouldn’t abandon unfinished potential like that.”

“Well if her effects don’t stay in the body, and I took a hit after ingesting her blood that didn’t heal, then she can heal someone temporarily.” Leon lifted his shirt to show Rebecca the marks from Andy’s antlers.

She stepped closer and touched them, apologizing when Leon winced.

“Her blood burns up faster than anything I’ve ever seen. She has to be constantly replenishing herself. Maybe that’s why she’s fluctuating so much, and if there’s damage left over from the failed harvesting, then her body’s probably trying to do some form of triage and take care of the worst areas first, leaving gaps with the less prevalent injuries.” Rebecca tapped her chin. “These marks mean her virus was already breaking down in your body.”

Leon lowered his shirt just as pain burst across his side. It doubled him over, darkening his vision. It felt like his rib snapped and each breath hurt. Rebecca and Chris moved to grab him, but he slipped through their grips.

“Leon?” Chris was in his ear.

Leon went down on his uninjured side, coughing. Blood spattered across the white tile, and he looked to see Chris’s forehead oozing blood. A large puddle began to form around Chris’s leg, soaking through his pant leg. He dropped to his knee, holding himself up by Leon with a hand.

“Get a doctor! Now!” Rebecca yelled to the soldier behind the desk.

Leon wheezed, feeling like he swallowed glass, and inched towards Chris. The wounds were the same as before, the same ones Katrina healed. He coughed, sputtering blood over the floor and grabbed for Chris’s hand, tightening until their knuckles blanched.

“Leon.” Chris whispered.

The edges of his vision blurred as the darkness threatened to take over. Leon sucked in a harsh breath, coughing harder for it. He struggled to keep Chris in sight as his vision faded. His cheek pressed against the cold tile while his fingers laced limply with Chris’s.

“Leon!” Chris screamed.

The sound of running feet, and the rapid approach of a gurney faded out around him, but the warmth of Chris squeezing his hand followed him into the blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? You thought I'd not address the virus? Just give them a clean swipe? Nah.
> 
> Fun fact, the elevator kiss was the first romantic gesture Chris and Leon had in the first rough of this fic. Re-reading through, I realized "that's lazy of me". So I added in more and that's how we ended up with the spicy scene in chapter three. I still kept the scene, as we see, but fiddled it around from its original idea.
> 
> I figure I've lost some of you with the medical stuff. If I did, I'm sorry. Did my best to explain the situation as I could. Kat's actually super infectious in her story. She's what makes more monsters like her. But it takes more than ingesting her blood. There's a whole process. One our boys thankfully didn't endure.
> 
> Also, I think this is the last "and then they went unconscious" chapter I have. Don't quote me. I've been known to be a liar.
> 
> 5


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